


Learning Curves

by gentlearmor



Series: Canon FFXV [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Multi-Year, Vague Endgame Spoilers, evolving cast, flu season, not because i'm making money off of it obv, product placement because it's funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-08 16:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlearmor/pseuds/gentlearmor
Summary: A series of time-lapse style scenes that show the progression of the royal retainers, as they came to understand their prince.





	1. Gladiolus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I haven’t been around these parts in a long time. I haven’t written fanfiction publicly in FOREVER. However, I’ve been on a big Final Fantasy XV kick lately, and also in a pretty severe writer’s block that involves my purely original stuff, so I’m hoping maybe I can shake it if I write some independent and publicly posted fanfic.
> 
> I do not have an editor, and I am on some amazing painkillers. So, while I will try to edit my own stuff, if things go crazy, that’s why.
> 
> Well, that and I have a really insanely bad habit of not taking notes and keeping up with what I write.
> 
> This is going to be a trainwreck potentially, that’s what I’m trying to say.
> 
> Some context about my interpretation of Insomnia: It’s clear that, while most of Lucis is inspired by the United States in the central-to-west part of the country, Insomnia appears to be based on Japan (likely from the game’s versus XIII days) with American influences thrown in, so that is why some things won’t match in one direction or the other.

** 9 Years Ago **

 

It was amazing how much a difference it made when 15-year-old Gladiolus Amicitia started seeing his student and prince for what he truly was, and not for the stupid little shit he thought he was.

It’d been a year since the incident involving his sister. Since he lost his mind right in front of the King when Noctis said he took her outside and got them lost. Since Iris confessed Noctis saved her from her own childish antics in chasing a cat. Since Gladio decided that he should start giving the prince a fair crack, and not just assume he was a spoiled brat.

He’d gotten to know 13-year-old Ignis Scientia since then, too. Ignis provided invaluable insight to the kid’s psyche. “Please understand that he changed after his coma,” Ignis said shortly after Gladio approached him for the first time. He exuded maturity and wisdom well beyond his years, and showed just how well-schooled he was. “He was cheerful, kind. After his coma, he became sullen and quiet. Shy, even. Dare I say depressed. If he walks out from training with you, it’s likely that he’s nearing having his mind assault him in some way, and it’s best to get to a place where he can calm down in solitude.”

“Okay.” Gladio could remember how he stared at the young steward, because none of that had sounded like the words of a (at the time of that conversation) 12-year-old. “So… how do I help keep him from not going in that direction?”

“Kindness and normalcy,” Ignis had insisted. “In the training room, he’s not a prince, he’s your trainee. Treat him like one of your own.”

“Really?”

Ignis nodded. “Nothing gets under his skin quicker than people who treat him poorly, or treat him too well. The prince in him will come out on the former, and the shy child on the latter.”

“Man, you know him well.”

“I’ve been with him since he was six. Of course I do,” Ignis acknowledged, proud and yet coy in that pride.

A year in, and Gladio’s relationship with Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum had begun to improve.

Clapping his hands so hard that the actual spark of the sound echoed across the massive training room within the Citadel. “You gotta throw it and envision yourself following it, Noct!” he shouted across the way.

“Shouldn’t I have someone from the Kingsglaive teaching me this?” Noctis asked, nonplussed. “You can’t even warp!”

“They got better things to do with their time than waste it on your ass. I’ve learned how it works for you, so just listen to what I’m saying!” He always tried to remember to treat Noctis like one of his own inside that room. He even started a slow burn regarding that treatment, by inviting him to watch when other young, junior Crownsguard were training with him. That way, Noctis could see the way they spoke to one another, so when he started talking that way with him, he’d know it was because he was being viewed as an equal.

Gladio actually didn’t know if it’d work, but Ignis had said that Noctis was a lot brighter than he let on, and boy, was Ignis right. Once he stopped treating Noctis like a dumpster fire, Noctis started to loosen up around him and he was a legitimately talented and funny kid.

Noctis attempted to sling out the wood training dagger as Gladio directed, to envision following it in the blink of an eye. So preoccupied with the latter part of that, the wood piece shot out and across, narrowly missing Gladio, if not for his strafing to the side quickly. “Watch it!”

“Sorry!” Noctis sighed and slumped at the shoulders, looking at the floor.

Gladio pursed his lips at that, and grabbed the training dagger so he could take it with him as he approached the boy. “What’s on your mind?”

“I know my dad was warping by the time he was nine,” he huffed after making sure it was still only him and Gladio in the room.

“Your dad also didn’t get a sword to the body at eight,” Gladio reminded, handing the dagger over. “You were recovering for a long time after that.” Hell, Noctis still was. The way he stretched out his back and rubbed his head on occasion said as much. “Calm down. Take a breath. Use your imagination. This is gonna become second nature like the phasing is. As a matter of fact, let’s practice that for a little bit.”

“I dunno, I don’t know if I want to,” Noctis said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m kinda tired.”

“If you ever ended up in a fight, you wouldn’t be allowed to take a nap in the middle of it. Work with me here, Noct. We’ll do some exercises with your phasing, and give the warping a bit more of a try. After that, you can go take a nap. Okay?”

Noctis dropped his head back, giving an ugly sigh, but otherwise agreed with Gladio’s plan.

Gladio headed over to the wooden, large sword that he used when practicing with Noctis, and trailed over to him. “Alright, so—”

“When do I get to use real weapons, anyway?” Noctis interrupted, unashamed.

A laugh escaped Gladio. “When you learn your different dodges with greater consistency, and how to warp. Not only warp, but how to warp strike. Warp striking will come with the mastery of warping.”

“They really taught you all this without actually teaching you how to do it yourself?” Noctis inquired still.

“That’s the difference between the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard, Noct. Kingsglaive learn the same nifty stuff you do, but they all learn the same things and they have to wear the same uniforms. Crownsguard, we don’t learn what you do, but we get to work based on the skills that suit us best, and we can wear fatigues that match our skills when we’re not on guard duty here in the Citadel.”

“Huh.” Noctis squinted his eyes. “So… what makes me any different from Kingsglaive?”

“I know damn well King Regis has had that discussion with you.”

“Yeah, you don’t know anything. Answer me.”

Had it been a year ago, Gladio would have lost his damn mind at that reply. It sounded so pretentious. But knowing what he did then, he was coming to realize that was just how Noctis was. He wasn’t even trying to be a brat. He was just very frank. Ignis suspected that was how he forced himself to get over how shy he was, and anymore, Gladio was fine accepting that. He understood it wasn’t Noctis being malicious, it was him being… Noctis.

“You can use magic, for one,” Gladio said. He held up the sword. “Slow swings, just phase around them,” he said as an aside.

“Okay.”

As Gladio started to swing in on Noctis, moving considerably slower than in combat practice, but fast enough to keep Noctis guessing, he continued to speak. “Even though we and the Kingsglaive use magic, it’s only because of you and your family that we can,” he said, watching the way Noctis stepped around his swings as his body lit in shimmering blue each time. “And honestly, we can only use it on a case-by-case basis.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that you have to give us prepared spells for us. The Kingsglaive can just use the stuff. You can, too, though I’m supposed to teach you how to prepare external spells someday.”

“…but you can’t prepare them yourself.”

“Nope.”

“But… you’re going to learn how to teach—”

“To teach you, you got it.”

Noctis slid out by phasing to get some distance between him and the wooden sword. He level his gaze up at Gladio. “Why? Why waste the time? It’s not stuff you can use personally, whenever you want, so…”

Gladio smirked. He placed the end of the practice sword against the ground and leaned against it. “Because, as your Shield, it’s my duty to not only protect you, but to give you all the tools you can have to protect yourself,” he said. “You might never have to use them, especially within the Wall of the Crown City, but who knows? The future could bring about anything. It’s my job to make sure you’re ready.”

Finally, Noctis seemed to be satisfied with that answer. “Okay.”

“Now!” Gladio raised the sword once more. “Again!”

* * *

** 8 Years Ago **

 

Cor Leonis was sifting through paperwork that he had delivered to him as he was walking the halls of the Citadel idly, trying to just move around a little after spending the entire morning to himself, at his desk. He was just about to pass the prince’s training hall when a loud bang startled him out of his working haze. Looking at the doors, they slowly swung open as Noctis hit the ground, a wood dagger under him.

Staring at the boy, he asked, “Overestimated your warp there?”

“My soul is broken,” Noctis said miserably, planting his face against the ground.

“Get up and try again!” Gladio bellowed from inside.

A smirk escaped the Marshal and he tucked the papers under an arm, as he swept in to help the 12-year-old prince to his feet. “You know, I heard the first time your father successfully warped, he nearly went out a window.”

“Yeah, right,” Noctis doubted as he leaned back to stretch out his back. “Thanks,” he said about the help.

Cor nodded. “It’s true, you know. Whenever one of you learns how to warp, it’s apparently pretty amusing for anyone witnessing it. But that does remind me.” He leaned into the room, where 16-year-old Gladio snapped up straight, squaring his shoulders. “Why don’t you take him out to the training yard of the Kingsglaive?” he suggested. “There’re fewer places he can have head-on collisions with—”

“Wow,” Noctis interjected.

“—and they might have advice.”

“That’s a good idea, sir,” Gladio agreed.

“Th-That’s not… really… necessary,” Noctis said, frowning as he looked between the two.

“It’ll be fine,” Cor replied to him patiently. As he’d been there since the day Noctis was born, he also knew how shy the boy actually was, despite his attempts to force himself to hide it. “They already know you’re a little behind on learning it, and I’ve had a few come by to offer to work with you.”

“Really?” The prince was genuinely surprised, but it wasn’t clear as to which part surprised him: the Kingsglaive knowing he was behind, or that some offered to help train him.

“Really.” Cor looked back in to Gladio while he pulled his phone. “I’ll call down to let them know that you two are headed that way.”

“Thank you, sir,” Gladio said, bowing in salute to him.

It took some time to make the trip, because the Kingsglaive training yard wasn’t actually part of the Citadel itself, but was in the same complex. A militaristic venue, it was rough and well-used, but only a handful of Glaives were present. Most were out in the field, Gladio advised as they stepped out to approach a couple of them; a man and a woman, both of whom looked no older than twenty-one years of age, who were waiting patiently for them.

When they were close enough, the two put their fists over their hearts and bowed, and Noctis held up his hands. “You don’t… really need to do that, it’s okay.”

“He’s pretty informal,” Gladio assured the two.

They nodded, and the woman stepped forward to Noctis. “I’m Vita,” she said. “This is Gavaorio. We’ve been with the Kingsglaive for about five years, hasn’t it been?” She spoke with an accent that was close to Ignis’s, as did the man.

“Aye, just about,” he agreed.

“We understand you’ve been trying to learn warping,” Vita continued, smiling faintly to the boy. “Bloody troublesome when you’re first trying to get it down, we know it all too well. First…” She whipped out a dagger from nowhere, phasing it into view as Noctis would be learning to do in the near future, once he mastered his other skills first. “None of that wood practice shite.” She flipped it so she could grasp the blade and offer Noctis the hilt. “You can’t convince yourself to warp if you’re thinking in terms of practice.”

“Wha—okay,” Noctis said, baffled, and taking the dagger carefully.

“Now,” Gavario said as Vita moved out of the way. He bounced back by several yards and held open his arms. “Warp at me.”

“What?!” Noctis exclaimed, eyes going wide. “You do know I have to throw this at you?!” It came out as a weird question and statement, a two-in-one unintentional from his surprise.

“Boy, if I can’t evade a dagger coming my way, I don’t deserve to be protecting you and yours,” Gavario replied.

“Here, let’s set some rules,” Vita broke in, hopping over to about three feet in front of Gavario and using her foot to draw a line out in the dirt. “Warping and warp striking don’t have to end in a collision with the enemy,” she explained. “It can be used both to close the distance and to gain distance. It’s offensive and defensive.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I want you to view Gavario as a potentially hostile entity,” she stipulated. “You’re not here to do him harm should he prove to be friend and not foe, but you need to reach him quickly and startle him out of his trying to stay away from you.”

Gladio was watching Noctis as Vita painted a vivid picture for him. The kid was funny when he was actually paying attention to someone or something, because it was near impossible to shake him out of his focus. Gladio suspected it came from years of multitudes of tutors having to strictly get him to focus on their every word.

So, while Noctis stared at Vita, absorbing all the details she was giving him, she continued painting that picture for him. “Once you reach him, he’s going to attempt to swing a fist at you,” Vita said. “This questionable man has just become an enemy. So you will then need to gain distance. Phase, and then warp back to your Shield for safety. Gladiolus, we’ll look to you to help with this.”

Gladio nodded firmly and looked at Noctis. “You got all that?” Noctis nodded, but looked nervous. “Hey. You’re warping. You can do that. This is a control exercise. A real one. You need to catch that dagger before it hits him. Your dad’s gonna be pissed as hell if you knife one of his Glaives.”

“True.” Noctis flustered a little and turned to pace back a bit.

“Nope, back to your spot, Highness!” Gavario ordered. “I’ve given you more than enough distance.”

“I slammed into a set of doors this morning!” Noctis protested, stomping his feet as he went back to Gladio’s side. “My targeting sucks!”

“It’s going to be fine, your Highness,” Vita soothed. “He is a man of question, and you want to approach him quickly before he can make his escape, but you’re not wanting to hurt him,” she repeated, her voice calm and insistent. “When you get in close, he attacks, and you learn he’s an enemy. You phase away and then warp, returning to your Shield for cover. If you don’t, he will strike you.” Gladio frowned at that, and Vita just nodded knowingly to him. “This is the way we do it.”

Gladio nodded slowly, but remained at the ready, just in case. He didn’t like the idea of Noctis actually getting hit, but his phasing was on-point, so long as he reacted fast enough.

Noctis stood in silence, the way he bobbed his head telling Gladio that he was replaying the scenario in his head. Gladio didn’t push him, and would have told off the Glaives if they tried to, which was a non-issue when he glanced over at them. He was just a kid, and it appeared they understood it, even though they were practicing with real force and weapons. They just needed to pray they didn’t hurt him, because Gladio swore he’d lose his mind.

The moment came where Noctis spun in a circle, on his feel, and whipped the dagger out at Gavario. His body lit up in that shimmering blue as it did when he phased, and he was rushing forward to the line in the blink of an eye. Well, a little over it, but that was fine. He caught the dagger just before it could hit Gavario. The surprise was written on his face, but he didn’t get much an opportunity to rejoice.

Gladio saw the major tell that Gavario gave before he swung his fist at Noctis, and smiled faintly. Frankly, if Noctis managed to get struck when the man cartoonishly reared his fist back behind him before swinging it in for a right hook, he kind of deserved what was going to happen.

Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Instead, the boy’s body burst in blue light again as he phased to the man’s right, and his left, which was perfect. Phase in the direction from which the attack was incoming, Gladio always said. It was harder to stop forward momentum and correct it than it was to chase someone dodging in the same direction the attack was headed.

Noctis then spun and threw that dagger in Gladio’s direction with far more confidence. Perhaps a bit ill founded, because when he warped back to Gladio’s side, he did so by slamming into the ground and rolling past his trainer and Shield.

That left Noctis looking furious at himself. Gladio was about to praise him, but Vita and Gavario had it covered, clapping their gloved hands together. They weren’t the only ones, the two realized, because a handful of other Kingsglaive who were still in the area had gotten word about the prince being there, and had stepped out to watch. No doubt, Noctis’s late blooming in his skills had reached them, too. They were awfully nice about it, applauding as well.

“Look at you! You almost got it, Highness!” someone called from the six or seven standing at the edge of the training yard.

Noctis let out a rather bashful laugh and limped his way over to Gladio to stand by him. “Are they patronizing me?” he murmured in question.

“They clearly mean it,” Gladio answered, grinning. “The only people outside of the Kingsglaive who can do what they do are the Lucii themselves. You’re representative to them.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Noctis said, waving a little nervously at the gathered group.

Vita and Gavario approached, and Gladio hoped they would at least put him to ease. He nudged Noctis to focus on them again as Vita leaned down, her hands on her knees. “So, how do you feel?” she asked with a soft smile.

“A little tired, but otherwise okay,” Noctis replied.

Vita briefly glanced at Gladio, who just nodded to her. The exhaustion was understandable. Noctis was tapping into a way stronger power to fuel his abilities, while the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard where handed theirs by Noctis’s father. “Well, that’s perfectly natural when first learning,” Vita covered, smiling back to Noctis. “How long have you been training today?”

“Dunno,” Noctis replied with a shrug.

“A few hours, now,” Gladio answered.

“Ah. Well, normally, I’d have you do it again, but tell you what: You keep in mind what you just did today. If you find that you’re still struggling by the time you start training again, have Gladiolus bring you back down to us,” she encouraged kindly. “As a matter of fact, we have some Junior Glaives we’re training all the time. I’ll send Gladio the information, and you can always come down and train with them.”

“Really?”

“Why not?” Gavario asked, amused. “We’ll still have to tell them to wear kids’ gloves with you, because we train hard down here, and I’m sure your father would like you back without a bunch of cuts, scrapes and bruises, but no formalities will be used otherwise, if you’d prefer. Maybe we can even teach your Shield here a thing or two.” That prompted a smirk from Gladio. Friendly ribbing between the two branches was a given.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll see what happens next time,” Noctis agreed.

“Thank you, again,” Gladio said as he patted Noctis on the shoulder and turned to guide him away. “Think you’ll be able to repeat that again tomorrow?”

“I mean… I’ll try, sure.”

* * *

** 5 Years Ago **

 

“Holy shit!! What the hell is wrong with you, Noct?!” Gladiolus Amicitia, age 19, screamed from across his backyard.

Between him and the Crown Prince Regent, powerful strikes of lightning shot down from a blustering spot in the sky. Judging from the shameless, wicked cackle that escaped 15-year-old Noctis, it was clear it was an intentional cast of a thunder spell, tossed up and lingering in the air.

“ _I am the god of all that is sparky!!_ ” Noctis screamed through his cackles.

“It’s six in the goddamn morning!” Gladio shouted.

“Then stop dragging me out here and training me before school!” the prince shouted back.

Because, apparently, he hadn’t yet proved his point to Gladio enough, he allowed the large, katana-like wood weapon to appear in his right hand. He spun and whipped it out towards Gladio, warping across where the beautiful, perfectly cut grass was being burned to death in chaotic spots. Gladio had been looking there instead of Noctis, and he learned his second lesson for the day when Noctis exited that warp with his feet in the air, so he could slam them into Gladio’s chest and knock him back several feet.

Gladio grunted as he was knocked back, and he drew his own, much larger practice sword to block Noctis when he swept in to smack him upside the head with his practice katana.

“I hate mornings!” Noctis shouted. He spun around and attempted to strike Gladio with a backhanded slash, but Gladio was able to stop that, as well. “And I especially hate getting up three hours ahead of time—” He phased to the side to try to strike Gladio in the knee. “—just to be sore and dirty for the entire day!”

“If you made yourself available after school, this wouldn’t be a problem!”

“Get me on the weekend!”

“You have Sundays off! Sundays!”

“Get me Saturday afternoon, we can have a sleepover and talk about boys!” Noctis barked, still doing his level best to hit Gladio somewhere. If he could, he would win the battle.

“No homo, am I right?!” Gladio grunted out, still expertly dodging and blocking Noctis’s strikes. The boy was getting faster by the day, and Gladio was going to make sure to not waste the time he had left when he could do so without taking some sort of damage.

“If I say ‘all the homo’, will you back off?!”

“Maybe!”

“Homophobic!”

Finally, Gladio got an opening to parry Noctis’s weapon right out of his hand, and then he slammed his flat hand into Noctis’s chest, knocking him flat on his rear. Noctis groaned and rubbed his hips, looking up at Gladio as the end of Gladio’s practice sword came up to his face. “What now?” he asked, huffing at him.

“I want Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday,” Gladio advised firmly.

“Four days? Two back-to-back? Are you kidding me? I have homework to do, and I spend Fridays doing things around town,” Noctis argued.

“We either schedule, or I start jumping you at random times to practice right then and there. Besides, we all know you’re the worst about your homework.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Noctis pushed the large sword away from him and went to stand. “Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays,” he decided. “I’ve trained with you nonstop every other day relentlessly for years. Gimme a break. Haven’t I come a long way already?”

Gladio sighed. He checked the ground for a fire, before resting on his sword like it was a walking staff of some sort. “You have.”

“So three days instead of every day, and after school instead of before. Except on Sunday, which we can do at like… noon. I sleep in on Sundays, but I should be up at noon.”

After studying the determined prince, Gladio smirked a bit. “Are you taking debate classes or something?”

“No.” Noctis lifted an eyebrow, and Gladio realized that was a silly question. Noctis would’ve been getting taught that sort of deal-making procedure since he was in his single digits still. “Is that good enough or what?”

“Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays,” Gladio permitted. “But I reserve the right to use one of the other days to keep you on your toes.” As Noctis let out an ugly, disgruntled sigh, Gladio continued in defense of himself. “Because I still answer to your dad. He wants you getting no less than four days with me.”

“Ugh, fine. I really need to be going, though. My first class is like in forty-five minutes, and I dunno how I’m gonna get there this fast. I guess I can call Ignis—”

“He is not going to get here that fast. Come on, I’ll drive you. He could use a break from your pompous ass anyway.” Gladio gestured for Noctis to follow him, eliciting another long groan from Noctis.

“ _Fine_. Just try not to kill me or anyone else on the way,” the prince complained as he followed Gladio for his house. That wasn’t even a statement rooted in anything Gladio had done in the past behind the wheel. Noctis was just obligated to be a jerk.

\------

After dropping Noctis off at school, and watching as the boy seemed to shrink down as he started into the building, walling himself off from the attempts to speak to him that came from all sides, Gladio shook his head and proceeded on for the Citadel. He wasn’t on-shift just yet, as his was tailored to align to when Noctis was about to get out from school for the day, but he wanted to do some personal training and clear his head of the fact that his father was going to lose his mind when he saw the scorch marks all over the backyard.

When he reached the training room he used with Noctis for so many years, he stopped in the doorway as he caught sight of Ignis Scientia, who was standing idly there, slowly flipping daggers in his hands as he was deep in thought. After Ignis didn’t move for a bit otherwise, or let on to noticing him, Gladio knocked on one of the doors as he stepped in fully, which caused Ignis to jolt out of whatever daydream he was in and look over.

“Ah, Gladiolus, my apologies,” he said, shaking his head clear.

“I told you, ‘Gladio’ is fine,” Gladio reminded, amused. He busied himself with taking off his shoes at the shoe rack. “I dropped the prince off at school on my way here.”

“Yes, I’d heard you’d dragged him out of bed rather early for morning training. Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to raise him,” Ignis remarked thoughtfully.

“I grabbed him by the feet and dragged him out until he hit the floor. That sure as hell woke him up,” Gladio said with a growing grin.

“You were careful with his head and back, I hope?”

“Nope.” Gladio looked over to where the young steward looked like he just had someone confess a murder to him. “He’s fine, Ignis. That boy is more durable than you think.” When Ignis looked no less convinced, Gladio sighed and headed over to him, folding his arms once he got closer. “Seriously, he’s like permanently just dead weight. He could be in a head-on collision on the highway and come out without a scratch, he’s so limp-bodied when he sleeps.”

“That is true, but that doesn’t stop if his head or spine hit something poorly,” Ignis argued.

“I know. But he needs to toughen up. What happens if he actually has to go out into battle one day?”

“I know, but he’s still only fifteen.” The minute after he said that, Ignis closed his eyes and sighed. “Then again, he’s been trying to convince the king to allow him to move out of the Citadel.”

“What the hell. Why?”

“He says he wants to be closer to school, but I imagine he just wants away from the pomp and circumstance of princely life and duty,” Ignis replied.

“And your thoughts?”

“It’ll make my job harder, but it’ll also help him mature some. I do think he should be at least sixteen, however.”

Gladio hummed in thought as Ignis left him to go to his gym bag at the side of the mat-covered portion of the floor. After giving it some thought, and allowing Ignis to wipe off with a towel and get some water, Gladio spoke up with, “I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Ignis draped his towel over his shoulder and paced back over, idly rolling his water bottle from hand to hand. “Do tell.”

“So, you think it could help Noctis grow up. I think it could, too. King Regis might not be keen on the idea, but if his Shield and his steward vouch for him, I bet the king would be more inclined to listen. So, we’ll strike a deal with the prince: When he can prove he can protect himself against no fewer than five attackers using nothing but his body, I’ll help vouch for him, provided he keeps his grades up and learns to make at least one kind of food, even if it’s just eggs or something. That way we know he won’t starve to death in between your visits.”

Ignis thought about that for a minute, unreadable. He was probably trying to find every scenario in which that plan could go bad or well, during all stages of its completion. Whatever conclusion he came to, it was apparently good enough, because he nodded and looked at Gladio. “I think that’ll be fair. He’ll complain, to a point, but—”

“—he’ll know he stands a better chance with us on his side than without us,” Gladio finished, grinning. “Maybe he’ll actually feel inspired to work.”

Ignis chuckled and shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see, hm?”

* * *

** 4 Years Ago **

 

“Damn, this is a nice apartment,” Gladio found himself rambling out as he looked around the upscale apartment, seated about twenty minutes walking distance from Noctis’s school. “No furniture?”

“Ignis is ordering some to be delivered in the next week,” Noctis replied. “I told him that wasn’t necessary, but he got like… triggered and said if I didn’t have a desk or table to work at, how would I keep my grades up? I said I’ve never used a desk, I did all my shit on my bed, but…” He shrugged. “Moms, am I right?”

Gladio smirked and trailed off for the balcony. “Let him worry about you. It’s his job,” he said, always one t stand up for Ignis. “You made us copies of your key yet?”

“No, I forgot,” Noctis said passively, shrugging.

Gladio looked back at Noctis with a flat expression. He held out his hand. “Key.” Noctis groaned and pulled it from his pocket, slapping it into Gladio’s hand when he was close enough. “You know Iggy and I said you had to give us a copy of your apartment key,” he reminded. “That was part of the deal. I’ll go get copies made. Cor wants one, too, just in case.”

As his Shield started past him again, that time for the door, Noctis trotted after him. “What if I have a girl here one day? You can’t just barge in on a guy gettin’ some!”

The hysterical laugh that emitted from Gladio was drenched in doubt and amusement. “Yeah, you let me know when that day comes. You have the charm of a daemon.”

“Well, according to people at school, who needs charm when you’re the heir to the throne?” Noctis retaliated.

To Gladio, that was especially funny because he knew damn well Noctis didn’t believe that himself, even though it was actually very sadly true. When he reached to and opened the front door, which led to a bright, finely designed hallway of the upper end skyrise building Noctis was set up in, he turned to look to Noctis. “Lock the door when I leave, and remember to not open it unless you recognize who’s outside.”

“I know,” Noctis said, with all the indignation of a teenager who had been told that at least ten times previously. “Just… let yourself in when you get back. I’ll be in my room, doing homework.”

“Got it.”

Gladio’s trip was pretty fast, since the place to have copies made was literally across the street from the building, but he and Ignis knew Noctis would have no chance of doing it himself when they told him to get copies made. That was the only reason Gladio didn’t ream him for being dumb, because it wasn’t even that, it was just that Noctis was only driven to do something when he wanted something else, and Gladio had come to accept that fact. If he was older, that would be one thing, but there was no point when he was sixteen.

When he returned, he let himself in as promised and dropped Noctis’s original key on the counter, before seeking out the master bedroom. While Noctis hadn’t wanted anything more than a studio apartment, Ignis insisted that he should have at least two spare bedrooms. That in itself was such a fight, it went from stupid to hilarious pretty quick.

What wasn’t funny was when Gladio peered into the master bedroom, and found Noctis just staring at an open schoolbook, clearly not reading it at all. He was just zoned out with a rather somber expression on his face, and slowly spinning a stylus to his tablet in a hand.

He barely even reacted when Gladio said, “Hey, I’m back.”

“Hey.”

Gladio watched as he started to actually started to read the book. Ignis called that mood Noctis’s ‘recharging period’, and advised it was best to leave him be when he got that way, or else there would be hell to pay. Gladio didn’t understand it but, again, Noctis was still a teenager, so he let it go. “I’m gonna head out, Noct. I’ll get the door locked.”

“’kay. ‘night.”

“’night.” That boy was so confusing to his Shield, but it was still easier to go with the flow when it came to his quirks. The day would come that Gladio would start gladly checking him for his behavior, but Noctis would continue getting a pass until he at least became a legal adult. He had enough people tugging on him and trying to force him to behave ways that weren’t natural to him, he didn’t need Gladio doing it anymore than he needed Ignis doing it, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, did you make it this far? What a champ!
> 
> I apologize for any wonky formatting. If you look at my history here, I didn't post much and it was years ago, so recalling how it works here has been a chore.


	2. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a painful journey, when you're the steward, advisor, chef and childhood friend of the future king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a strange twist I wasn't prepared for, there is no cooking. There's talk of cooking, but there is no Iggy cooking.
> 
> This is dedicated to a friend, who writes a far better Ignis than I, and the '12 Years Ago' is inspired by her.
> 
> Also, insert, "Eos has IRL culture icons!" at the 5 Year segment XD

** 13 Years Ago **

 

“Iggy! Iggy!!”

The sound of a child’s body crashing against marble was unmistakable, even to the then-nine year old Ignis Scientia. He whirled around from where he had been putting away some books he’d claimed from the Citadel’s expansive, exclusive library, his heart thumping in his chest as he saw where his charge had eaten it on the floor as he’d whipped around a corner to get to him.

However, Noctis Lucis Caelum, age seven, leapt up to his feet and waved a DVD at Ignis like he didn’t just crash and burn. “We need to watch this!” he implored eagerly.

Ignis smiled to Noctis, setting down the few books he’d yet to place, and went over to take the DVD and see what it was. It was some sort of cartoon movie, featuring superheroes in helmets and solid colored bodysuits. Even at that age, Ignis wasn’t exactly caught up with what was normally interesting for boys his age, but Noctis made up for it in the way he refused to watch anything without Ignis with him.

“When would you like to, Noct?” he asked, keeping hold of the DVD to hopefully avoid Noctis crashing and burning again.

“Can we now?!” the boy asked with wide eyes. While he had been rather shy but grateful for Ignis’s presence when they were first introduced, he’d taken his father’s request that Ignis stand with him as a brother quite seriously. Anything he considered ‘fun’, Ignis had to be right there with him. If Ignis wasn’t there, there was a good chance Noctis would refuse to move until he was brought to him.

The little boy in Ignis, who had very little exposure to children his age due to his chosen role in life, really liked that fact. “Have you finished your studies?”

“Mmhm! I wasn’t even allowed to touch that until I was done,” Noctis replied, pouting a little as though that had been the worst moment in his life. “Please, Iggy?!”

“Okay,” Ignis agreed, giving him a small smile.

“Yes!” Noctis rushed forward, grabbing Ignis’s hand, and started to pull him along with such force that it was nearly Ignis falling to the ground that time.

Out of the library, he dragged his steward and brother, narrowly missing crashing into none other than King Regis and his entourage as they were passing through. Ignis looked horrified and pulled to a stop to bow to the king once they were out of the way, and assumed Regis would be moving on once the path was clear. However, Regis was just standing there and, when Ignis chanced a short glance up, found he was smiling back down on the two boys.

“I hear you’ve a new movie, son,” he said to Noctis.

“Yep! Me and Iggy are gonna go watch.”

“’Iggy and I’,” Regis gently corrected.

“Iggy and I are gonna go watch,” Noctis repeated back, moving closer to grab onto and hug Ignis’s arm.

Regis smiled at that and looked at Ignis. “Thank you, Ignis,” he said kindly.

“Yes, your Majesty,” Ignis replied, bowing the best he could.

As soon as he got that out, he was being pulled by Noctis, much to Regis’s amusement. He was pulled away, down the hall, into an elevator, up an elevator (a break came when Noctis couldn’t reach the button to his floor, so Ignis had to do it for him), out of the elevator, down another hall, and another hall, until they were at his room.

“Okay, you get where you want to sit,” Ignis encouraged as he pulled over an extending counter that had a television on it, and set up the DVD.

Noctis clamored onto his bed and crossed his legs together as he sat there, and as soon as Ignis got everything ready, he started banging on his mattress. “Come on, Iggy!”

“Coming!” Despite his maturity, Ignis was still a little kid, and had to crawl up onto the bed to sit beside Noctis all the same. He had the control with him, but didn’t use it immediately. “Do you want anything to eat or drink before we start?” he asked.

“Nonono, turn it on, Iggy,” Noctis insisted, watching the title menu excitedly.

Ignis did as he was told, and watched as Noctis became completely engrossed in the animated drama of the cartoon they were watching. He was so excited to be watching that movie, and did everything he could to involve Ignis with the story. He’d talk about the different backgrounds of the characters, and how awesome they each were, and even though Ignis acknowledged all of it with an elder brother’s sort of passive interest…

…it was pretty cool.

* * *

** 12 Years Ago **

 

“ _Please_ , let me go to him.”

“If the king wishes for you to be in the room with the prince, he’ll call for you,” one of the many adults charged with Ignis’s training and education said, waving a scolding finger at him. “Begging is unbecoming.”

Ten-year-old Ignis sucked in a deep breath and held it at that, bowing to the woman who was scolding him. “I understand. My apologies.”

It was a nightmare. Fifteen people were dead. People who dedicated their lives to the nurturing of Prince Noctis, age eight, and to his protection while his Shield was still growing strong, gone. A breach in the Wall led to an attack on the Crown Prince via soldier and daemon. If not for his nanny shielding him with her own body, the blade that was thrust into him from behind would’ve gone far deeper. Ignis was also hesitant to imagine if Regis hadn’t heard of the breach before the attack and rushed with his own to Noctis’s rescue what might have happened.

Ignis had been preparing Noctis’s things for his arrival from his little day out in the outer forest within the Wall when he received word of what was happening, and the 10-year-old wanted nothing more than to at least see him. To have proof he was alright…

But it seemed the courtesies extended to him didn’t stem further than when he was in a room with King Regis or Prince Noctis.

His heart was breaking, and he couldn’t even show it. What if Noctis… died? He couldn’t even be there for him.

The desperation hurt, and it only hurt worse as the days clicked on and Noctis wasn’t getting up. He had prayed to whatever deity would listen that maybe King Regis would remember his existence, and call for him so he could go and be with the boy he was to call brother, but the call never came. Nothing ever came. Noctis continued to sleep, locked away after one time awakening, having also struck his head so hard on the ground when his nanny landed on him that he was severely concussed and was bleeding profusely when found.

The only people who offered Ignis a shred of kindness were the nurses of Noctis’s care. About two weeks into his long-running slumber, he awakened briefly and started calling for, ‘Iggy’, and the young women took it upon themselves to seek Ignis out.

They became immediately charmed when they saw the little boy with the maturity of a twenty-year-old.

Maleene and Savra were their names. Nurse Maleene and Nurse Savra, that was how he chose to address them, however. Maleene was an ebony-skinned woman, fit and athletic, with a fountain of naturally tight curls dyed with a soft, dark red ombre style. Savra was more like Gladio and Noctis, with a slant to her eyes, and soft, straight black hair, also decked with a matching red ombre. Ignis remembered that part well, because he wondered if they were best friends, or what. She was shorter than Maleene. They were both clearly good work friends, at the very least, because they were funny and warm, and comfortable with each other, which made Ignis feel more comfortable when they approached him.

“So, you’re Iggy, hm?” Maleene asked, her smile pearly white against her dark, dark skin. In later years, on reflection, both those nurses were very attractive, but for Ignis at ten, they were just nice ladies.

“H-How do you know?” Ignis asked, looking absolutely exhausted. His worry was getting the best of him, and not a single adult in charge of his care and education cared, and he rarely saw his own family as they were as busy as he in their servitude to King Regis directly.

“Prince Noctis came to very briefly last night,” Maleene explained softly. “While the king was sleeping. He begged for ‘Iggy’, but fell asleep before we could ask for more details. We learned Iggy was Ignis, and Ignis was his steward, but…”

“Such dedication you must have to be so young and mean so much to him,” Savra took over, leaning down and smiling all the same to Ignis. “You’ve been worried, haven’t you?”

The little boy in Ignis was taking over in that moment. He hadn’t had anyone speak to him like he was truly a child for as long as he could remember. Because of that, he hummed his yes and nodded, looking to the floor otherwise.

“We’ll take you to him,” Savra decided, causing Ignis to snap up straight with wide eyes.

“After you let us do a once-over of you,” Maleene added, reaching out and tenderly fixing some of Ignis’s rogue hairs with her fingers. “To be blunt, you look like you haven’t slept a wink in ages. That’s not very healthy. A lad at your age should be getting no less than nine hours of sleep.”

“Must I?” Ignis asked, not thrilled at all. He just wanted to go to Noctis.

“Please? We’ll make it quick,” Savra promised.

Ignis relented fairly quick, since it meant him ultimately getting what he wanted.

As promised, it didn’t take long at all. While Savra checked his pulse and blood pressure, Maleene checked his breathing and his vision. It was awkward, but he didn’t say anything. He wanted to see Noctis, so he felt it was worth it. After they were done, and quietly compared notes to the side, Maleene came over to smile to Ignis. “You’ve been really very stressed over this, haven’t you?”

“I would just like to see him in person,” Ignis insisted, looking determined beyond his years, but scared in his little frame.

The nurse smiled softly and held out her hand for him. “Come on. Nurse’s orders: My patient has to see his friend.”

Ignis quickly took her hand as he stood, eager to get to Noctis. Savra stayed behind, clearly logging the readings they got from him. He was curious about that, but waited until he and Maleene were closed in one of the elevators of the Citadel to look up and ask, “What is she going to do with whatever you documented on me?”

“Well, we can see that you’re stressed in your numbers,” Maleene said, not talking down to him, which he appreciated. “We’re not sure why you’ve been kept from him, either, given that you’re his steward. My father served as a nurse to King Regis when he was still a prince, as a matter of fact, so I know what your role means from all the stories my father told me about the king and his steward.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said, stunned.

Maleene smiled and turned, crouching down to Ignis, to get on his level. “If someone tries that again, you come find me. I’m here every single day, even when no one needs me, and I live in the medical wing for the Crownsguard,” she said quietly. “If I’m not available, you find Savra, okay?”

“Okay,” Ignis said. He had to square himself at the shoulders to keep from allowing the child in him to break down. He was just so relieved someone was actually caring and not making him suffer through protocol, especially since Noctis was asking for him.

But despite his efforts, Maleene seemed to see through them, and tenderly pulled the 10-year-old in for a delicate hug. He bit on the inside of his cheek, but still, Ignis returned that hug gladly. It was nice that someone was caring.

When they finally reached Noctis’s bedroom, Maleene escorted Ignis in as one of the Crownsguard by his door said, “Hey, good to see you, kiddo.” They weren’t perturbed or trying to keep him out, so why did his teachers and tutors get so insistent on it?!

Inside the room, Maleene said, “He isn’t going to wake up, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t possibly hear you. He just can’t open his eyes right now.”

“Is it because of his head…?”

“Yes.” She released Ignis’s hand once she had him at the foot of Noctis’s bed. “He hit very hard when he fell, so his brain is healing as much as his back. So, if you get on the bed with him, be very gentle with your movements, okay?”

Ignis nodded, and then was surprised as Maleene offered him a small smile and wave as she turned to leave the room. He wanted to ask why she was okay with doing that, but he also didn’t want her second-guessing herself, so he just watched her go.

There was nothing to do for Noctis, but at least he was there, and he could see with his own two eyes that at least the boy was alive and breathing. Many of his fears were calmed by that alone. It was as though someone had given him a sleeping pill, too, because all at once, weeks worth of exhaustion was catching up with him, but he refused to leave unless King Regis himself kicked him out (and he would be pleasantly surprised later to learn that Regis would be doing nothing of the sort, having a bed brought in for him instead).

He crawled up onto the bed, using the toy trunk at the foot of it to be able to do so delicately. Once on it, about a foot away from Noctis’s feet—it was a long bed, and both boys were still small—he went to lay down sideways, using his arm as a pillow for his head. He didn’t even bother taking off his glasses as he did so, not that he thought about it much once he was settled.

He was with his prince and brother, and finally, he could sleep.

* * *

** 10 Years Ago **

 

The prince was never the same again after he woke up from his coma, and healed from his injuries. Even after his trip to Tenebrae to meet with the Oracle, and former Princess, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, he wasn’t the same.

There were glimpses of the boy that Ignis used to know every so often, such as when a new movie released of something he liked, or when he was bored and wanted to play video games, but besides that, he became disinterested in most anything else, including Ignis.

Nothing reminded the young steward of this more than when he approached Noctis with a tray of muffins, as the boy sat in the bay window of a waiting room, staring out at the gardens. “I thought you had training with Gladiolus today,” twelve year old Ignis commented as he placed the tray down beside Noctis and then folded his hands together behind his back.

“I walked out,” Noctis said without looking at the tray or Ignis, his tone bland. “I don’t want to train today.”

If the bruises on Noctis’s arm were any indication, Ignis could imagine why. Although he’d had very little interaction with the prince’s future Shield before then, he’d seen enough to see the junior Crownsguard disliked the prince, and those bruises weren’t the first, despite the personal armor he had Noctis wear to protect him.

“He didn’t hurt your back or head, did he?” Ignis asked.

“No, not intentionally,” Noctis replied. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He sighed and finally turned to look at the tray. “Thanks, Iggy.”

“Of course. I made certain they were made to taste for you,” he assured. Ignis didn’t know how to cook or bake, but he’d been deciding that would be a good idea to learn, and was spending quite a bit of time in the kitchen to learn from the chefs there. They had to focus on the whole facility. He could afford to focus strictly on Noctis’s tastes and preferences, of which there were still an obscene amount.

Noctis picked one up and offered it to Ignis. The lack of expression on his face killed his steward a little more on the inside, because he missed when Noctis was relentless in his cheerfulness with him. He was a lot easier to get along with, but Ignis also understood that Noctis had experienced an incredible trauma two years ago. He wasn’t even allowed a break when they traveled to Tenebrae, where he and his father narrowly escaped Niflheim forces and the boy had to witness even more death. That would scar anyone, let alone a child. Ignis hadn’t even experienced such horrors, and it made it difficult to fully empathized, although he certainly tried.

He delicately took the muffin, and was going to simply thank Noctis, but was interrupted when Noctis nodded to the space of the bay window on which he’d sat himself down. “How’s school, Iggy?” he asked.

Ignis didn’t let a smile out, but he believed that was the first time Noctis had asked how he was doing with anything at all outside of his initial recovery time since the coma.

He went to sit as silently requested. “Very good, thank you,” he replied. “And for you? Your experience is ending up so much different from mine.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t go to normal school,” Noctis scoffed.

“Because I’m luckier than you are,” Ignis replied. Noctis looked at him, confused. “Well, you go to school, then you come home and have to train with Gladiolus, and then you have to spend hours with private tutors. I spend my day with private tutors, and then you. I’d say that’s far easier, wouldn’t you?”

“…huh. Hadn’t thought about it that way,” Noctis said, slowly pulling a muffing into meticulous pieces so he could eat them one at a time with his fingers, instead of biting in.

That, Ignis presumed, was the dinner table etiquette training. ‘Never bite into anything. Always cut or pull it apart in small enough sections to eat a piece,’ he remembered Noctis being taught. Even to the young steward, that sounded silly, but he realized it was likely to make certain the prince never had his mouth too full of food during important mealtime conversations.

“What have you been learning at school?” Ignis asked. Yes, while occasionally he went with Noctis’s driver to pick him up, Noctis was never in a mood to speak in those rides. He was never hesitant to just punch the divider button between driver cab and passenger cab just to get the driver and Ignis to stop engaging him.

“History,” Noctis replied, still somber. “I dunno.”

“How do you know but not know?”

“There’re these… stupid girls around me in class, and they won’t stop trying to talk to me. They’ve even gotten detention for never shutting up, but they still don’t stop,” Noctis grumbled. “They never call me just ‘Noctis’, it’s always ‘prince’ or ‘Prince Noctis’ and it’s stupid.”

“Well, you’ve got to get over the title. It is what it is, you are what you are.”

“I just wish they’d gimme a break. I don’t want people talking to me at all. Well…”

That last expression of reconsidering caught Ignis’s attention. “’Well’?”

“So, like, the other day, I was out behind the school—well, not so much behind. There’s a storage… thing… there, and there’s a space between it and the school that has all this construction stuff, and we’re not supposed to go there, which is why I totally go there.”

Ignis refrained from scolding him right then. That boy was asking for an accident, though.

“Anyway, I was there, and this kid approached me. Big kid, blond, glasses. I’ve seen him around. He looks about as happy to be there as I do, normally.” Which explained why Noctis noticed him. “So, yeah, he called me ‘Prince Noctis’, but he seemed pretty okay. I was trying to figure out why he suddenly wanted to talk when we passed each other like… five million times before and after school, and during lunch.”

“A question, for sure,” Ignis said, just to let the prince know he was listening.

“Well, he fell over coming over to me, and was so busy protecting his camera that he hit the ground, and it looked like it hurt a lot. I helped him up, but didn’t get a chance to ask anything, ‘cause the bell was ringing and we’re not in the same class.”

“Perhaps he wanted a friend.”

“Maybe.”

Ignis took a thoughtful bite of his muffin. After finishing with it, he asked, “Have you thought of approaching him?”

“Nah. For all I know, he’s too embarrassed after falling. It’ll make him feel worse.”

“Well, I hope for his sake, if he’s looking for a friend, and you wouldn’t mind the right sort of friend, that he gets up the courage to approach you. It’d be better than the ones clearly wanting to befriend you for benefits.”

“Yeah. I just hope he’s not like all the others. I mean… if that even happens.”

Ignis hoped for Noctis’s sake that it did, and that indeed this other child wasn’t like the others. Noctis needed someone not connected to his life as a prince to be his friend, that much was clear.

Finishing his muffin, Ignis went to stand and looked to Noctis. “Shall I rid of the tray now?”

“No, I’ll take care of it,” Noctis replied, focusing on his torn up muffin still. “Thanks.”

Whether it was intentional or not, that gratitude was also a dismissal. Even then Ignis could tell, and he bowed to Noctis. “Of course. Call me if you need me.” And then he was heading out of the room. While he understood many of Noctis’s ‘modes’, he would never admit that Noctis had become such a complex creature, and trying to understand everything about him required a lot of effort, to say the least.

* * *

** 5 Years Ago **

 

“Are you kidding me?”

…

“How?”

…

“Bloody hell, I’m on my way.”

Seventeen year old Ignis Scientia was going to have the blood of royalty and civilians on his hands. Had he known this would be the natural evolution of Noctis Lucis Caelum if he got an actual friend at school, he would have discouraged it at all costs.

The drive was about half an hour to get to the park where Noctis was at, sun having fallen about an hour previously. It was a bit late to be out, but Noctis usually spent that time at an arcade with his friend, Prompto Argentum. That was acceptable.

What wasn’t acceptable was Ignis pulling up to a bench where Noctis and his blond friend were sitting, and Noctis standing and showing off an unnatural swing to his lower half of his arm. Mortified, Ignis didn’t even park correctly as he got out of the car and approached the two. Prompto was holding his chest, Noctis his arm, and Ignis was beside himself.

“I want to make absolutely certain,” Ignis said slowly, about to have heart-failute, “that I fully understand what happened here. You two bloody fools decided to try being… Assassins…”

“It was awesome,” Prompto snickered wildly.

“It was. You should’ve seen how Prompto fell out of a tree and onto a trash bin,” Noctis said, grinning a bit. “Not in! On.”

“That is a video game,” Ignis reminded.

“Isn’t life nothing but a video game, Ignis?” Prompto asked, a wheeze behind his words as he made himself sound like he was revealing the meaning of life or something. The fact that Noctis looked at Prompto and snickered made everything all the more surreal.

“And why didn’t you call an ambulance?” Ignis asked, stunned at everything going on in that moment.

“Because I’m trying to convince my dad that I can get my own place, remember? And if I call an ambulance, the press is gonna put me on blast, and he’s gonna be pissed. I can hide a cast so long as the media doesn’t catch on,” Noctis justified. “So you need to take us someplace quiet and small, and throw hush money at them.”

“Hush money? Hush money!” Ignis repeated, incredulous. There was no way he could think of how to scold either of them, because he was trying to figure out how they ended up so damn stupid. He turned and pointed to his car. “Both of you, backseat. Turn on the reading lights and make absolutely certain you have no other injuries on you.” The boys did as they were told, Ignis looking around for anyone who might’ve seen all that.

And for someone who would witness the potential double homicide, if those boys didn’t behave and do absolutely everything they were told.

When he dropped in the car, Prompto and Noctis were rambling at each other wildly about how they could free run better in the future. “I think we have to bring ropes,” Noctis said.

“No Assassin uses ropes, dude. We need hookblades!”

“Where the hell are we gonna get hookblades?”

“I dunno, doesn’t the Citadel have an armory?”

“There are no hookblades in the armory. I guarantee you.”

“How do you know?!”

“Because I’m in there at least every other day! It doesn’t have anything even close! …but, maybe we could find something at a sporting good’s store. Mountain climbing stuff.”

“Hey, I like mountain climbing!”

“Riiight, and when’s the last time you climbed a mountain, Prompto?”

“I go to Beadley’s Sports Cafe! They got a rock wall there!”

As the boys went on and on, Ignis stared at his steering wheel, imagining slamming his own face into it several times. They were the epitome of the ‘stupid male’ stereotype. What was even going on?!

He looked over his shoulder at the two. “Find any other injuries, lads?”

“Cuts and scrapes,” Noctis said. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah, same,” Prompto replied when Ignis looked at him for an answer because he wasn’t giving it right away.

“Off with the reading lights,” he directed. The boys obeyed, and Ignis pulled out of park to start getting them to a doctor as fast as possible. “And you’re certain no one saw you even just goofing around in the park?”

“Hey—hey,” Noctis said, slapping the back of Ignis’s headrest and making him grunt. “Being Assassins is not equal to ‘goofing around’, you respect the Creed, Iggy.” That whole sentence was painful to hear.

“Respect the Creed, Iggy!” Prompto echoed, snickering.

It only got worse after they got their treatment, which included painkillers.

The final outcome of the situation was that Noctis (as if it wasn’t obvious) had broken his forearm, and Prompto fractured several ribs. They weren’t caring though. They were feeling fantastic, and Ignis was wondering if they even realized how stupid they were.

“Man, Noct, there’s this really pretty girl that just started in our school,” Prompto drawled while Ignis was headed for his house to drop him off.

“Yeah?” Noctis asked, so dazed that he didn’t realize he was staring at his good arm’s hand for the the last five minutes.

“Yeah, aw man, she’s so prettyyyy… Red hair like down to her waist, and blue eyes. The most amazing green eyes. I’ve never seen such pretty brown eyes.”

Noctis looked over at Prompto and started snickering as he doubled over. “What color eyes does she have again there?”

Prompto looked over at Noctis and cackled. “I don’t remember!” he crowed.

Ignis was pretty sure shoving his head into a fire would be more welcome than whatever the hell was going on in his backseat.

He appreciated the fact that Noctis’s new friend seemed to have a knack for bringing out the boy Ignis first got to know. It wasn’t all the time, but it seemed more frequent with the boy, who was just a few months younger than Noctis. He also admired that Prompto, who was in no way obligated to Noctis, was willing to put up with his worse moments without faltering. Normally, Ignis would’ve suspected that Prompto was after something and just more charming than the rest, but the more he saw of him, the more he realized that he really just wanted a friend in Noctis.

When they arrived at Prompto’s home, Ignis looked into the driveway as he pulled to a stop. The relatively small, but well-kept and decently ranged home didn’t have a garage, and the only vehicle there was a bicycle. He clucked his tongue and glanced at Noctis in the rear view. “Please just stay seated. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Yep,” Noctis acknowledged, popping his lips loudly at the end of that word.

Ignis stepped out and to the back, opening the trunk. Before Prompto could grab his bag, Ignis did it for him, and Prompto laughed out. “Hey, you’re not working for me,” he protested.

“You really should give yourself a night without carrying this about.” Thank God it was Saturday, and that they both had the next day off. Ignis turned and gestured. “After you, Prompto.”

Prompto huffed, good natured in how he did so, and headed off for the front door. He stopped by the mailbox to peek in for any mail, and was unreadable when he closed the hatch up after it produced nothing. He busied himself with keying into the front door while saying, “Noct let me taste some of the lunch you made for him the other day. Man, you are a hell of a cook!”

“Thank you,” Ignis said with an appreciative nod.

Once Prompto had the door open, he was hobbling in and holding it open for Ignis. “Why don’t you hang out with us more often?”

“Who would drive you to hospital if I was participating in such antics?” Ignis asked as he stepped inside. “Where would you like me to set this?” He was looking around the house, trying to find indications of life beyond Prompto.

“Oh, dude, the chair right there’s fine,” Prompto insisted, pointing to a guest chair by the door, while he worked his shoes off with his feet. “Thanks a lot, but you don’t have to worry about me! You’re Noct’s friend.”

Ignis actually smirked at that. “Yes, well.” He looked to Prompto. “Will you have someone caring for you tonight and tomorrow?”

“Oh man, I’ve handled worse without even someone to drive me to and from the doctor, I can handle this just fine,” Prompto insisted cheerfully. “My dad’ll be home on Monday!” Ignis looked at the 15-year-old with pursed lips and a furrowed brow. “I promise. Wow, you really are a mom!”

That loose tongue from the painkillers could be annoying or funny. Ignis, frankly, thought Noctis’s and Gladio’s jokes about him being a mother were pretty funny, and hearing an incredibly high Prompto crack one too was equally so. He knew what he was, and yes, it was quite comparable to being a mother. That was fine by him.

As such, Ignis actually smiled faintly and chuckled. He pulled his wallet and plucked a card from it that contained his information. Normally, those cards were for business contacts, and people he needed to apologize to for Noctis’s behavior at times, but he wanted Prompto to have his information.

“Should you need anything at all before your father comes home,” he said, “I want you to call. No heavy lifting. You heard the doctor. Ideally, you should be waiting at least two weeks to do much of anything so the fractures can heal and not get worse from stress.”

“I got it,” Prompto said, taking the card and smiling brightly. “Thanks, again, Ignis. I appreciate it.”

“And don’t worry about showering. You can’t get your bandages wet, and you’re too medicated to be worrying about wrapping them in plastic.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Prompto groaned. “I’m dirty thooouuugh.”

“I know, but you can survive a day. Keep up on your painkillers in modest, prescribed amounts, and if you need to go shopping or anything, I mean it, call me.”

“Okay, okay, I promise,” Prompto said, using Ignis’s card to cross over his heart. “You have a great night, and thanks for the help!”

Ignis bowed his head to Prompto. “You as well, Prompto.” And off he went for his car, where Noctis had switched to the front passenger seat and was waiting patiently.

Once Ignis was in, he put his seatbelt on while asking, “Does he have both his parents?”

“Yeah,” Noctis replied. “I mean, they adopted him when he was an infant, but yeah.” The chain of logic in that information drop was somewhere, and not even the one dropping it knew where.

“Are they both gone often?”

“Yeah.” Noctis looked out the window once the car was moving again. “I mean, he denies it, but he’s a latchkey kid.”

“How do you know for certain, then?”

“I’ve been over here before,” Noctis replied. “Several times, and nothing’s ever different.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Prompto’s a neatfreak,” Noctis elaborated, looking at him and, judging by the way he wobbled in his seat, was probably seeing two of Ignis there. “He’s not OCD, but he wants things a certain way, and you never see things different in his house. It’s always exactly the way he wants it.”

“Hm.” Ignis had no doubt that Noctis’s attempt at explaining that ended so poorly because of the pain medication, but it ended up doing its job. Ignis, anyway, believed him. Noctis wasn’t prone to observing subtle things, so when he did, Ignis tended to listen. “Will he call if he needs help?”

“No,” Noctis said, starting to sound more sober than he was before, perhaps because they were headed to the Citadel, and whatever disassociation he created for himself when he was with Prompto was starting to break down. “I mean, I suppose if it gets too bad, he’ll call me. But he’s not going to call unless he breaks his legs, too. He thinks he’s being a ‘pain’ if he needs help.”

“And what do you think?” Ignis asked, glancing at Noctis.

“I think he’s a pain for not asking for help.” He took to moving around, to grab his school shirt that he had shoved into his schoolbag when the doctor needed access to his arm. It was better than having him cut the shirt off, even though it hurt like hell to get it off in the first place. He had an undershirt on, so it didn’t matter to take off the outer layer. “But whatever.”

“Why haven’t you invited him to the Citadel? Why don’t you now?” Noctis was being more candid and open right then, but was rapidly reaching shutdown with him, so Ignis wanted to get as much of an idea about his friendship with Prompto as possible before he cut him off entirely.

“I’ve tried,” Noctis replied. He busied himself with fastening the button on the wrist of his shirt, to help hide the cast. “He just goes on about how it’s ‘no place for a plebe’ like him. He’s been looking for a job, so I offered him something at the Citadel. He said no. I think he’s intimidated.”

“By you?”

“By all of you, not me.” Noctis moved around next to get his uniform blazer on. “So… I dunno.”

Ignis drew quiet on his interrogation for a time, staring out ahead in silence. It went on for so long that Noctis pulled his phone to start playing some music to break up the rattling quiet. He bobbed his head a bit to the music, but otherwise just did something on his phone, likely playing games or something since his social circle was very limited by his choice.

“What is that?” Ignis asked, because it was just racket in his opinion.

“The music?”

“Aye.”

“Atari Teenage Riot?” Noctis asked like Ignis was stupid. Ignis lifted an eyebrow. “The last good thing to come outta Niflheim?” When Ignis shook his head, Noctis just gaped at him. “Are you kidding me?! Dude, you’re only two years older than me, what the hell do you listen to?!”

“Never mind that, I want to talk to you,” Ignis sighed. God, he felt so much older than seventeen. “Can you turn it down?”

Noctis turned it down, alright, while staring at Ignis, unrelenting.

“Gladio and I were speaking about you the other day,” Ignis said, slowing the car, to make a turn into the private parking area of the Citadel. “I mentioned that you wish to convince your father that you would be able to move out and be on your own.”

“…yeah…?”

“Well, we both agree that could potentially be very good for you—”

“Does that mean you’re gonna help me?” Noctis asked, eyes even bigger than before.

“Conditionally.”

“What’re the conditions?”

Ignis didn’t respond right away, focusing on parking his car. He then looked to Noctis, resting his hands on his legs. “For Gladio, he wishes for you to prove that you can defend yourself, without weapons or magic to aid you, against a five-man attack. For me, I wish for you to learn your way around the kitchen just enough so I know you won’t die in between my visits, since it’ll be harder for me to come visit you with any frequency. Additionally, we both will require that you maintain the ninety-five average and GPA that you have now. We also want you to be sixteen. If you can fulfill all of these, we will speak up in your favor to the king.”

“Really?” Noctis wobbled some in his seat, but his eyes were wide with his form of legitimate excitement. “So I need to be able to beat the shit out of five dudes with my bare hands, learn how to make toast, and get good grades, and at sixteen you’ll help me?” he summarized.

Ignis nodded (despite wanting to tell him he needed to learn something more complex than ‘toast’). “Given also the revelations about your new friend, I believe that we will have a selling point there, as well. I’d have no problem caring for the both of you whilst you’re like this, but not when you’re in separate locations.”

Beyond that, he knew for a fact that Regis had heard about Prompto. The fact that no one told Noctis to stop being around him, Ignis took that to mean that Regis approved.

“Aw man, let’s do it,” Noctis said eagerly. “I’m gonna cook five men so hard you won’t even know you’re eating human.”

He flung Ignis’s car door open to get out, leaving Ignis to wonder… was he joking or were the drugs talking? With Noctis, it could be either one in equal measure.

* * *

** 3 Years Ago **

 

Never in his life had he encountered something like it.

Truly, he was horrified.

Ignis Scientia, age 19, steward to the heir, was never going to go over a week without checking in on Prince Noctis, age 17, ever again.

The kitchen counter and the coffee table were both littered with Cup Noodle containers and energy drink cans, some of which were still half-full. The dining table was stacked up, nearly to the chandelier, with books and comic books, and had used kleenex all over the table. He had to step over empty tissue boxes, and couldn’t even see the sink thanks to all the dishes that were left with poorly cooked food still on them, no care even taken to the side with the garbage disposal.

He set his briefcase to the side of the doorway and opted to leave his shoes on because of the debris littering the floor. “Noct!” he called as he navigated through the main area of the prince’s apartment. “I hope you’ve a good reason for not being in school for the last week!”

There was no answer, and Ignis frowned. Perhaps he was with Prompto?

He hoped Prompto had at least visited, because how in the hell did he go through so much stuff in just fifteen days? Ignis was serious. Even though he was gone for so long because he was taking specialized courses on battle tactics, something the king himself was adamant Ignis do, he should have taken the time to have Gladio drive him, as tired as he was, to see what in the hell Noctis was up to. Since Gladio hadn’t heard from him, he wouldn’t helped.

He entered the hallway to the three bedrooms and the guest bathroom. The latter was as trashed as every other part of the apartment, while the guest rooms were untouched. Several days’ worth of clothes trailed to the master bedroom, as though Noctis was stripping them off day by day when he crossed that way, and the piles included at least three days’ worth of school uniforms.

When Ignis reached the master bedroom, he knocked on the door, and pushed it open. It wasn’t like he’d be getting up to anything scandalous. Noctis was such an outlier about things like that, it was actually funny.

What wasn’t funny was how Noctis was balled up in his bed, at least four blankets on top of him, and an array of over-the-counter medicines on his nightstand. When Ignis reached him, he located his head under the blankets, moving them just enough to reach the top of his face, and touched his forehead. He became incredibly concerned when it was clear the prince had a high body temperature.

Noctis’s voice came through the blankets, but it was too weak to be heard. So Ignis pulled the blankets down further, so that he could see all of Noctis’s face. “What was that, Noct?” he asked.

“I’m dying, Iggy,” Noctis repeated, his voice coming out pitifully hoarse. “I can’t breathe and the room hasn’t stopped spinning for like two sunrises.”

“Do you know what day it is?”

“No.”

“Is this why you haven’t been in school all week?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll be staying over, then,” Ignis said without hesitation. He went over to start looking over the medicines on the nightstand, to remove anything that either wouldn’t help. “You won’t get better in an apartment that looks like Ifrit himself decided to stampede through.”

Noctis snorted, and then groaned and held his head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Ignis asked next, looking down at Noctis.

“…you were busy…”

Ignis shook his head. He also wanted to tell Noctis he was stupid for not calling but that wouldn’t help anything. “When you say you can’t breathe, is it just your nostrils? Are you nasal cavities full?”

Noctis wasn’t moving, aside from his steel-blue eyes as he watching everything Ignis was doing. “Chest is rattling like a baby toy.”

Ignis sighed out. “This won’t do, Noct. We need to get you to the Citadel so the royal doctor can have a look at you. Are you dressed under there?”

“No.” A pause, and then Noctis added, “Boxers.”

“Alright.” Ignis went over and started pulling the blankets away. Noctis protested frantically, but when he raised his voice, whatever illness was surprising it turn his voice into nothing but lip movement, before he started to cough hard. Loud. When Ignis pulled the last blanket away, he could hear the rattling Noctis referred to, and he was honestly horrified. “Why didn’t you call me?” he blurted. He hurried for Noctis’s closet to find something comfortable and warm.

“I’m dying, Iggy,” Noctis croaked out, blindly trying to get a good hold on his blankets in order to ball up again. “I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying—”

“You’re not dying, though you very may die if we don’t get you to a doctor,” Ignis said. He pulled out a set of track pants and a soft, white button-up from the closet, which looked like Noctis had fallen into it, tried to break his fall by grabbing his hanging items, and consequently pulling them all off the hangers.

He returned to Noctis and slapped at the hand trying to bring the blankets over. “You need to cool off,” he said. “I know you’re freezing. That’s the fever, but I suspect you’re rather up there. You don’t have a personal thermometer, do you?”

“I do.”

“Where?”

Noctis brought his hand up to his face, and stuck his thumb under his tongue. Ignis’s face fell flat as he watched the sarcastic child then rip his thumb from his mouth and croak out, “The temperature is Ifrit with a dash of Burn in Hell.”

“Bloody hilarious.” Ignis sighed and took hold of Noctis by the wrists. It was clear the teenager was also dizzy, because when he was seated on the side of his bed, his eyes actually actively rolled back in his head and he covered his eyes. “I know, Noct, this isn’t fun. The car ride will be even worse, but please work with me.”

He started fighting to get Noctis dressed, the boy’s limbs flopping around uselessly. His entire body was pale and hot, and it was honestly scaring Ignis, despite the fact that he stayed perfectly calm on the outside. “When did this start?”

“W-Week ago,” Noctis coughed out as he wobbled in place. “Been out with Prompto late. Cold. School clothes. Not else.”

Ignis hoped to the heavens that he was talking like that because it was easier on his voice, and not because he was delirious.

“’m sore, Igs,” Noctis complained hoarsely.

“I know, Noct.” After he finished buttoning up that shirt, Ignis stooped down and helped Noctis put his feet into the legs of those pants. He helped him stand to pull them up fully, and then swung Noctis’s arm over his shoulders to start walking him out.

“Need shoes…”

“You’ve slippers at the door, you can wear those.”

“Those’re bad for warps.”

“That’s fine, because you’re not warping anywhere.”

“Am if I see Glads.”

“I don’t want to know. You can settle whatever problem you have with once you’re better, understand?” Ignis directed, implored, as he helped Noctis walk. He started to kick debris around in order to clear the way for them, since Noctis was barely lifting his feet.

“Said ‘m a monkey brain,” Noctis rambled.

That… was… interesting, because it both sounded like something Gladio would say, and nothing like something Gladio would say. Ignis just sighed and shook his head.

“’m dying, Iggy, this is awful.”

He proved that statement when he almost fell over, and Ignis was sorely considering calling Gladio in to carry him out to the car. It’d likely take too long, though, so when they reached the door and he helped Noctis step into his slippers, he propped him up against the door. “Stay right here, do not move,” he directed.

“’kay.” Noctis nodded slightly, and then groaned and slapped his hands over his eyes. “World’s spinning, make it stop, please.”

“We’re going to get you to the doctor,” Ignis said as he hurried off for the desk Noctis never used except to play video games. He grabbed the chair there, which had wheels on it, and picked it up to rush it back to Noctis, leaping over the mess Noctis had everywhere.

As he approached the prince, Noctis’s legs gave out and he started sliding down the door. He flapped his arms around uselessly for something to grab onto in a display that was going to be hilarious in hindsight, because he was acting like he was falling at the speed of light, but in reality was just sliding slowly down to the floor. Ignis caught him before he reached it, though.

“Oh, my hero,” Noctis coughed as he flopped in Ignis’s hold. “Almost had an oopsie.”

“Good lord,” Ignis sighed, getting him into the chair. He realized pretty quick that just having Noctis sit in it wasn’t going to happen, that he was going to slide right out of it, and hurried off to the master bedroom. He dug around to find a particular bag that Noctis used when he and Prompto were wanting to break bones.

It was a black duffel, in which ropes and hooks for climbing were placed, and were perfect for tying Noctis to the chair. When he found it, he grabbed it and rushed back out to the entry, where Noctis had slid so far down on the chair, but had been trying not to, that his head and shoulders were on the seat of the chair, he was clinging to the back with his hands, and his heels were digging into the tile entry, outside of his slippers. His shirt had hiked up, and his pants had slid down some, and he was grunting as he fought to stay with the chair, and was still losing.

Ignis looked up at the ceiling, to say a silent prayer. Not for Noctis’s health, but just for them to get through it without Noctis somehow hurting himself or ripping his clothes off where people would see him. The boy was such a train wreck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That was a long one! If you made it this far, you are awesome. I'm sorry for any crazy typos, formatting, or grammar issues.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


	3. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Prompto's turn! Lady Lunafreya is depending on him to become friends with Noctis, but is the prince a brat as tends to appear, or is there beneath the surface of Noctis Lucis Caelum?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: PLEASE READ:
> 
> I haven’t changed the archive warnings, because I personally don’t believe the conversation is something to be censored at the T-rating I’ve given this. However, because I do know some people are more sensitive than not:
> 
> In the ‘3 Years Earlier’ portion, Noctis and Prompto will be discussing a former victim of human trafficking. There is nothing descriptive about this, but the conversation alludes gently to the absolute nightmare a minor OC they run into has been through.
> 
> Also, I guess if eye stuff is upsetting, but it’s actually pretty cool, regard the ‘2 Years’ part’s introduction carefully? I’ve actually had this procedure myself, so I’ll be writing from experience! (Actually… well, my experience actually DID have something go wrong LMAO.) Anyway, it opens with you being able to know what it’s about, so if you can’t do it, you can move on :)

** 5 Years Earlier **

 

If one factored in the partial year of when he was ten and up to that day, it had been about four and a half years since Prompto Argentum first engaged Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. He was so embarrassed after that moment in time, but it left a mark on him that made him determined to become worthy of Noctis.

Now, at fifteen years of age, Prompto had come to understand that Noctis’s comment on his weight wasn’t ill-intentioned. They were kids, and he was stating a fact. Hell, the fact that he even spoke to Prompto was a big deal. It took years of reflection to realize all of that, and he was glad it did. Had he realized it immediately back then, would he have started exercising? Would he have started to eat healthy?

Despite having really realized it for going on almost a year, Prompto didn’t want to give up. He wanted the time to be perfect when he approached Noctis again, hoping that maybe he didn’t remember the incident at all. Even though he realized Noctis’s comments weren’t malicious, that didn’t mean eating dirt wasn’t hellaciously embarrassing.

So, almost five years later… over 1,600 pictures taken after every run of every day later… Prompto took his last picture of his body, and was proud. He’d joined the track team. He was in the basketball club. He enjoyed going to Beadley’s Sports Cafe, where he could run on their treadmills, play their interactive dance games, and climb their rock wall. He was the epitome of an athlete. That’d impress Noctis, right? He was a fit guy. They said he had to train to fight, and Noctis always did well in things like the mock Olympics their school had.

He went to school, hyping himself up the whole way. Despite the fact that he’d changed his life so significantly, the blond boy was still a bundle of self-consciousness. If he hadn’t been, he was pretty sure he would’ve abandoned all his work just for the comfort of junk food. So, he had to hype himself up to get ready to try to reach his final goal: befriending the Prince of Lucis.

When he saw Noctis walking the school grounds for class that morning, the first morning of the school year, Prompto ran right up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hey, Prince Noctis!”

Noctis looked at him, on the defensive almost immediately, and said nothing as he stared at him.

Prompto, knowing exactly what he had to be feeling in that moment, was relentless. “I’m Prompto! Nice to meet you!”

With a tilt of his head, Noctis studied Prompto for a moment, and asked, “Haven’t we met before?”

“What? Nope!” Prompto laughed. “Believe me, I remember all the people I talk to!”

A small glint of humor crossed over Noctis’s face. “…yeah, okay. Headed to class, then?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re asking me to cut class, I probably shouldn’t, even though I’m probably going to fail everything anyway,” Prompto joked.

First, Noctis was briefly surprised, but then he actually smiled a bit. “I tend to get caught whenever I try to cut class,” he joked, walking in a way to imply he wanted Prompto to walk with him.

“Oooh, you probably have eyes on you all over the place, huh?” Noctis nodded. “Well, I tend to, like, actually never cut class, so don’t worry. I have no tips on how to do it better.”

“Maybe we should try one day to see how fast it takes to get picked up by juvenile delinquency officers and dragged to their holding facility with repeat offender George,” Noctis suggest.

It was Prompto’s turn to be surprised. “…I have no idea if you’re joking or not, because that’s really specific.”

Noctis smirked at that. “Whose homeroom are you in?”

“Mr. Trevally. What kind of name is that? Isn’t that, like, the name of a fish?”

“Wow, that is a hell of a name. Yeah, that’s a fish. A type of fish. Anyway, I think that’s next to my classroom, if I remember the school layout right for first years.”

It was kind of stunning Prompto to see how easy it actually was to talk to Noctis. The prince had the reputation of being ‘socially awkward’ and just overall hard to interact with. The rumors were rarely malicious by intent, and typically came from the people who were clearly trying to suck up to him to either be able to say they were friends with him, or to try to woo him. The worst it got was accusing him of being emo and being rude, which was understandable, given how Noctis acted. Prompto used to be that way, too, but started to become more outgoing as he felt and looked better.

But still, shock and surprise, when Noctis was spoken to like a human being and not a goal, he was actually pretty talkative.

“You wanna hang out then?” Prompto asked outright. “Either at lunch or after school?”

“…sure,” Noctis said, although he did sound a little wary. Again, Prompto understood. “…you like the arcade?”

“Oh man, I love the arcade, especially the shooter games and the dancing ones,” Prompto said, still unrelenting in his engagement.

Noctis approved of that plan, and playfully shoved Prompto as they reached the stairs of the first floor, to head up where the First Year classrooms were. “Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna kick your ass, though.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that! I dunno if people just let you win all the time or something, but I’m definitely not gonna take it easy on you,” Prompto challenged, grinning broadly.

That made Noctis grin even more. So, he really did just want to be treated normal.

Prompto could do that. Prompto could do that in spades.

———

And Prompto did.

Noctis stared, gaping at the competitive zombie shooter game they started their time at the arcade with, comparing his score to Prompto’s.

The screen said that the highest previous score was 856.

It said Noctis’s score was 850.

It also said Prompto’s was 1058.

Anything that had to do with Noctis trying to regard Prompto with friendly caution melted away as the gaping expression remained, and he slowly looked at Prompto. “Holy shit, dude.”

Prompto grinned as he tapped the plastic pistol to his shoulder casually. “I toldja I wouldn’t take it easy on you.”

“How the hell? Like… I’ve trained in projectile weapons,” Noctis said, although he was starting to grin. “Have you?”

“Nope, I just play a lot of video games!”

“I do too, and look at my shitshow score compared to yours!”

“Yeah… I am pretty good,” Prompto said, sighing dreamily about himself.

A small, short burst of a laugh escaped Noctis. It was the first laugh Prompto’d ever heard from the guy—hell, he was pretty sure no one at school had ever heard him laugh. That made it a great thing to hear.

“You do DDR?” Noctis asked. “I’ll kick the hell out of you with that. I watched you fall flat on your damn face today at lunch.” Yeah, Prompto had eaten it when he tried to jump over someone tying their shoes. It looked like it sucked, when his body slapped onto the tile floor of the hallway, but it was pretty funny, too.

“Dude.”

“Yeah?”

“I will so play DDR.” Prompto dropped the arcade machine’s gun in its cradle and grinned at Noctis. “After you, Noctis!”

“Call me Noct, it’s cool,” Noctis permitted, pushing Prompto at the shoulder lightly and turning to lead the way.

They became fast friends. Prompto had actually anticipated having to stalk him like some sort of creep for a week or so. He had been determined not to let the kind Lunafreya down in her wishes, even if Noctis ended up being a complete asshole, but he wasn’t. He was… like… legitimately fun to be around. He was blunt as hell at times, to a degree that shocked the more fragile-spirited Prompto, but it was easy to learn that he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. He was just a frank person who had no one around to tell him to not be an asshole, because really, who would?

Well.

Prompto would if he felt it necessary from then on out, but it’d have to be a pretty extreme case. It was funny when Noctis was like that to people who deserved it.

And yes, Noctis did, in fact, beat Prompto’s ass into the ground on DDR that day.

* * *

 ** 4 Years Earlier **

 

Of course, the first guest that Noctis wanted at his apartment for the night was Prompto. It took a few weeks while his steward, Ignis Scientia, did the interior design of the place, including the guest bedrooms he insisted that Noctis should have, but after it was done, the first thing he did was ask Prompto over for the night.

It evolved pretty quick to Monday when Noctis said, “You know, I’m going to start driving myself to school on Monday. Why don’t you stick around and we can go together?”

“Dude, this is the only school uniform I have on me,” Prompto said, gesturing to his clothes since they’d headed there straight from school.

“I have a washer and dryer in here. I could call Ignis to come over to handle it for you,” the prince offered.

Prompto snickered and shook his head. “Okay, well, first, I’ll use it then. Second, I mean it when I say I will. I can wash my own clothes.” He said it as he paced around the apartment while blindly pulling some comic books he promised he’d bring Noctis from his schoolbag.

“Suit yourself.” Noctis shrugged. “Wanna order pizza?”

Ugh, he hadn’t had pizza in ages. It sounded so good, but… “Could we order salad with it, too?”

“Man, you are hardcore with that diet of yours,” Noctis remarked.

“Gotta keep the ladies interested in me!”

“How’s that going for you, anyway?” By that point, Noctis knew Prompto had a plebe’s version of Noctis’s problems rooted in fake people throwing themselves at him for fake reasons.

“Ugh, they’re all so annoying.” Prompto dropped the comics on Noctis’s new coffee table, and dropped onto his couch. “Like, I like the sight of a pretty girl as much as the next guy, but I’d rather date a girl who is actually, you know, interesting and not looking to bridge herself to you through me.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Noctis asked, dropping to the couch as well and grabbing those comics. “Really? I mean, I appreciate the wingman bouncer stuff and all, but I can handle it. If you wanna play the field, you should.”

“I don’t wanna ‘play the field’, I’d like a girlfriend. Like… a girlfriend-girlfriend. A relationship. The normal girls either are too shy or self-conscious, and freak out if I so much as say ‘hi’, or they’re taken. I don’t really care about what they look like, even if that helps…” Prompto said. He realized something though, and frowned, looking at Noctis. “Not that you’re the catalyst of the problem. Before talking with you, they were still there, but they just wanted to be with the ‘guy who runs fast and plays basketball okay’.”

“So, first of all, that downplay bullshit is bullshit,” Noctis advised. “I’ve been to your competitions and games, remember? Second of all, I know you’re not saying that I’m the catalyst, but I’m totally the catalyst for the problem in this moment.”

Prompto laughed weakly and rubbed the back of his head and neck. “Dude, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Noctis said with a smirk. “You should know by now that it takes a hell of a lot more to offend me.”

“Yeah, you are kind of a dart board. People can stab you over and over and over, until that really big drunk guy steps in and hits you with a dart so hard, you fall off the wall.”

“Who says it couldn’t be a really big drunk lady, you sexist?” Noctis asked, getting Prompto to laugh loudly.

“My bad.” He stretched out long, hands over head as he did so. “Well, enough talk about girls! Pizza, salad, video games and comics!”

“And sleeping past noon,” Noctis said, so very looking forward to that part of the agenda.

“No way, I gotta be up no later than eight to run,” Prompto insisted. “But don’t worry! That doesn’t mean I’m gonna crash before you. Ignis said you’re pretty good at being the first to drop.”

“That goddamn traitor,” Noctis said with the irritation that only someone saying that about a good friend could have.

Prompto laughed out and scooched closer, pulling one of the lower comics in the pile Noctis was holding. “This one’s the best one, by the way. I mean, in my opinion. It’s hilarious but also very tragic,” he said as his sales pitch over something he wasn’t even selling.

“Cool.” Noctis sat back and nodded to the entertainment system across from them. “Video games, beer in the fridge.”

“Beer?” Prompto asked, surprised.

Noctis gave Prompto a flat expression. “What the hell are they going to do to me, or you?” There were times that Noctis had no problem with his station, and it generally came down to ‘Is this illegal? If you said yes, do it anyway.’

“But… how did you even get the stuff?”

“I know people who know people. So, help yourself.”

“Okay, you want one?”

“Sure.”

Prompto wasn’t exactly a massive drinker, and that wasn’t just because he was underage. He liked the occasional drink! His parents didn’t care, even when they were home and could see he’d cracked open the liquor cabinet occasionally. But he wasn’t keen on it all the time, and he certainly didn’t like getting drunk, and would be pleased to learn that Noctis was generally the same at that age. “Man, how many people would be surprised to see this?” he asked as he pulled his keychain, which had a bottle opener on it, to crack the bottles of beer for them.

“They’d probably be going, ‘Yes! They’re not robots!’,” Noctis guessed. “Speaking of school, would you want to be transferred to my class?”

Prompto carried the bottles over and pulled coasters from a small holder that Ignis had set up with great care, only for Noctis to clearly never use them, and put Noctis’s bottle on one, and kept the other in reserve for when he set his down. “I mean, if that was possible, that would be awesome.”

Noctis smirked knowingly, and that surprised Prompto. What did that mean? What was funny about that?

…

Apparently, what was funny about it was that King Regis had a long, very late lunch with his son the previous day to catch up with him, and had revealed he knew about Prompto, as well as gave his approval of the friendship they shared. When he asked if there was something he could do to help Prompto, having had Ignis be a traitor again and tell him the situation with his parents, Noctis had asked about at least getting switched homerooms to his.

Regis, thankful that his son had finally made a real, honest-to-God friend who was as normal and plebeian as Cor had been when they first met, was happy to make that happen. Having a commoner as a friend was important, in his opinion, and both Gladio and Ignis had vouched for the blond boy.

He’d never know the conversation that had gone on, and Noctis wouldn’t be telling him.

* * *

** 3 Years Earlier **

 

“See? It’s not so bad,” Noctis, age 17, said.

“I had no idea you did stuff like this,” Prompto replied, wowed. “I just wish you’d prepared yourself better!”

It was late, with snow covering the ground and ice building up on the streets if downtown Insomnia. Snow wasn’t a common occurrence there, but it could get bitter cold and icy every year. When Noctis received a call from a mysterious someone while he and Prompto were headed for the arcade after school, Noctis immediately turned the sleek Audi he owned around immediately. Prompto teased about him receiving a booty call, but Noctis just rolled his eyes and smirked.

It wasn’t a booty call, thank God, because Prompto didn’t want to have to sit in Noctis’s car while he went and got some. No, instead, it was a homeless shelter. Prompto had been by it before, but never really regarded it, and he just learned that Noctis was a regular volunteer there.

“What’re we doing here?” Prompto asked, staring out the window with wide, observant eyes while Noctis pulled something out of the glove compartment.

“I told them when their coat drive was over and it was time to hand them out, to give me a call.” He looked at Prompto. “You don’t have to help. I can give you the keys and I’ll walk home or call Ignis.”

“Whoa, no way, I’m gonna help,” Prompto said earnestly. “And get pictures of you doing this! I had no idea. You’d think they’d talk about it on the news or something.” He finally looked down to what Noctis was focusing on. It was a checkbook in his name, and he was writing out a sizable donation to the shelter. Prompto actually had to blink to confirm he was seeing five zeroes in the amount. And before the decimal point! Holy crap.

“That was the point,” Noctis said as he wrote out the check. “I work for ‘em at night because it’s harder to see who I am when I go out to pass things out.”

“…do you regularly just walk around without bodyguards at night, Noct?”

Noctis actually grinned at the concern in Prompto’s voice, glancing up at him. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that anyone can do in this city to me that I can’t kill them first for trying.”

Before Prompto really realized what was happening, Noctis pulled the camera rested in Prompto’s lap and snapped a picture of the gaping expression on the blond’s face, before handing it back and tearing his check free. “I want to see that on your photowall the next time I’m at your house.”

Prompto laughed.

But all of that still didn’t change the fact that within the hour, they were pushing a large, flat cart through icy pavements, it containing a box full of donated coats, and Noctis hadn’t bothered bringing a winter coat that day, since he was driving to school.

“Dude, you should see if there’s a coat in the box that’s your size,” Prompto encouraged as they moved along.

“I’m fine.”

“You flip out when your apartment is two degrees too cold. It’s like… a hundred degrees too cold out here!”

“I’m not taking a coat that needs to go to someone else,” Noctis said with a smirk. He straightened a bit as he looked out, and started to wave. “There she is.”

‘She’ was a little old woman, who was seated on a bench with a cart of her own, a stolen shopping cart filled with possessions that had little value to most people, but clearly meant the world to her. She was clean, but she certainly did need a coat, bundled then in a couple of thin throws for a couch.

“Mrs. Habor?” Noctis asked as they got closer.

The old woman, Mrs. Habor, looked over and smiled. “Oh… Prince Noctis…” she said, bowing her head to him. “Didn’t I tell you not to come out in the cold without at least a scarf…?”

Prompto looked at Noctis. “Yeah, Noct, why aren’t you at least wearing a scarf, huh?”

“I’m fine.” He stopped the cart in front of her and went to pluck a coat from the top of the pile. Prompto had noticed, when they were packing the cart, that he’d taken care to check every size, and when he found that one, that it was put to the top. He carried the white coat around and sat down on the bench with Mrs. Habor. “This should fit you, ma’am,” he said, speaking far more kindly than Prompto had ever heard in the past with him. “I checked the size. But I dunno, it looks like you’ve gotten back to your school day sizes.”

“Ohohoho, you are such a charming boy, your Highness,” the old woman said with a gentle, good-natured laugh. “Thank you.” She took the coat and eased it on in place of the blankets, which Noctis stood to help her cover her legs with. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“I’m glad,” Noctis said, smiling to her. “You should head to the shelter tonight. They’re going shopping right now, and should have food and bunks ready for anyone who needs it.”

“It would seem a guardian angel has once again lined their coffers, hm?” she asked in an amused, knowing tone.

“Yeah, it would seem so,” Noctis replied.

Prompto smiled as he watched Noctis. He’d never really seen him be a prince before, but he could tell, in that moment, that was exactly what Noctis was. He wore a soft smile, and spoke in soft but slightly deeper tones, and he kept his body posture proper at all times. While Noctis did a lot of things proper as second nature, sitting like a ‘gentleman’ wasn’t generally one of them when he was among peers, or the people who served him.

It was… kind of breathtaking. The people loved the Lucii, and watching how happy that old woman was to be on the mind of their prince and their heir was so wonderful. Prompto took a careful picture, making sure to use the lamps above them for light instead of the flash, to capture that moment in time.

“You want us to walk you there?” Noctis asked all the while, folding his hands in his lap. “To make sure you get there safely?”

“Oh, I’ve been walking these streets for more time than the two of your ages stacked atop one another,” she said, gesturing between him and Prompto. “If I can’t keep myself safe walking from here to there, then I’ve gone crazy and deserve what I get.”

“Well, let me help you up, at least. It’s icy, so you need to be careful.” Noctis stood and offered his hand for Mrs. Habor to take. She did so once she got her blankets into her cart, and Noctis helped her up and over to get a grip on her cart.

Once she was passed and out of earshot, Prompto looked at Noctis with a smile. “Wow, dude.”

Noctis shrugged as he sniffed a bit to clear his nose, and went around to help push the cart once more. “She was a stay-at-home mother,” he explained as he pushed. “Her husband died shortly after their third kid, so she’d been working every odds-and-ends job she could find. She says that eventually led to stripping, which led to prostitution, which led to her being trafficked and losing track of her children as they were whisked away by Child Protection. She was never prosecuted for anything, but she says she’s too afraid to find out where her children ended up, and remains on the street like this as ‘punishment’.”

“Man… that’s so sad. You said she was trafficked, right?”

“Yeah. To be fair, I looked up her records, and she’s telling the truth, but man, she sterilizes the shit out of the story,” Noctis said, sounding a bit haunted. “Anyway, prostitution and child abandonment are obviously illegal…” It was just harder to handle a case of child abandonment when the child was someone like Prompto, who was amazingly independent and orderly, and whose parents would answer any call reliably but his own. “…but human trafficking victims are exempt from those charges, even if those happened beforehand, since it’s too hard to prove that they really happened ‘beforehand’ because how traffickers work.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, actually.”

“Yeah, my old man made those changes before I was even born, I guess.”

“You must know a lot about the law, huh?”

“God, it’s so boring,” Noctis groaned, hanging his head briefly. “Anyway, I offered her a job at the palace. Some of the court recently had kids, and I think she’d be great as a nanny, but she told me she doesn’t deserve anything beyond when the shelter sends someone to give her warm clothes, or warm food.” It seemed to bother Noctis, but he didn’t try to show that, and Prompto wasn’t going to push.

“Jeez, for a rude-ass nerd, you’re actually really nice, Noct,” Prompto joked weakly, pretty sad about that story.

“Yeah, I have my moments.” Noctis sniffed again, before coughing into the crook of his arm without stopping their pushing of the cart. “It’s just because I’m an awesome, multi-layered ogre.”

Prompto cackled out at that. Noctis really was an awesome, multi-layered ogre, and Prompto was honored that he could be his friend. Even when they did go do things that they knew would end in broken bones and an angry Ignis Scientia covering their tracks for them.

* * *

** 2 Years Earlier **

 

“Dude, you should just let me pay for it for you.”

“If you can afford this, then why do you have a part-time job at a department store, again?!”

Noctis shrugged. Prompto looked at him and snickered, shaking his head. “Bored, right?” he asked.

“Pretty much.”

On the other side of Noctis, Ignis Scientia was seated, reading something on his phone. “Whatcha up to over there, Iggy?”

“I’m reading up on how this procedure works before you go in there,” he said, adjusting the glasses on his face. “Are you certain you don’t just want to use contacts?” he asked, looking over at Prompto.

“Why, does the thought of laser surgery bother you?” Noctis retorted for Prompto.

“While minimal, I’m personally not comfortable with the risks.”

“I appreciate the concern, Ignis,” Prompto said with a smile. “But man, I have been working non-stop through high school, and saving all my allowances, and working full-time now so I could afford this. Yeah, it’s a lot right now, but my vision is godawful. I have to change my prescription at least once a year, and I can spend so much on it since it’s a heavy one thanks to my astigmatism. This is gonna pay off for me in the long run.”

“Very well,” Ignis said, looking back to his phone. “So long as you’ve thought it out. I admire the work you’ve put into it to achieve this on your own.” Prompto smiled at the praise.

A nurse came out, in scrubs and with her hair pulled up under a surgical cap. “Prompto Argentum?” she called.

“Present and accounted for!” Prompto leapt up when she laughed and beckoned for him. “B-R-B, guys!”

“Give him Valium!” Noctis called to the nurse.

Once they got back to the entrance of the surgery area, which was walled with glass so the people with the patient could watch if they liked, the nurse smiled to Prompto. “Would you indeed like a Valium?”

Prompto didn’t feel particularly nervous right then, but what if, once the procedure started, he did? “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he requested.

“Ask and you shall receive, cutie,” the nurse said with a smile. She disappeared briefly and returned with the pill in a cup. “Under your tongue, let it dissolve.”

Prompto obeyed, and was then walked over to the first of the machines. He waved to Noctis and Ignis, both of whom had approached the glass wall, and were watching intently.

The surgery was something else. It wasn’t bloody, and it wasn’t painful. The doctors that performed the surgery made certain to drench his eyes in pain killing eye drops, so anything they did do just felt like pressure, including the rings they used to force Prompto’s eyes to stay open.

He was allowed to sit up once while they switched out the machines, his vision cloudy as the natural lenses of his eyes had been lifted up delicately, but he could just make out Ignis and Noctis in the fog his eyes were creating in the room. Since he couldn’t close them, he couldn’t much as blink, thanks to the rings suctioned to his eyes, the fog slowly grew worse as he sat there, waiting.

In that moment, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world. Neither of them had to be there. He could’ve taken a cab home after it was through, but there they were, not only there to drive him home, but actively watching the procedure. He wasn’t sure if it was interest, or worry that they might miss it if something went wrong, but he truly did feel like the luckiest guy in the world right then.

When it was time, he laid back down and the nurse who collected him at the start placed her gloved hands on each side of her head while the two doctors refreshed the numbing solution in his eyes.

“Alright, Prompto, you ready for a light show?” one of the doctors asked, tenderly placing his hand under Prompto’s jaw, but not holding him. It appeared to just be a precautionary thing.

“What light show?” he asked.

“The one I mentioned at our consultation. When the laser starts correcting your vision, you’ll realize you’re smelling the smell of burning hair, and see purple-blue lights in your vision. We’ll need a minute per eye, but then we’ll get your flaps closed up, get you in your sunglasses because of the dilation, and get you checked outta here, got it?”

“Got it,” Prompto said, resolved.

“Hold still,” the nurse said gently. “I’ll be helping, but make sure to look at the red dot and don’t move your eyes anywhere.”

Sure enough, the smell of burning hair emanated through the air, accompanied what looked like a lightning storm of purples and blues over each eye. It was awesome. Well, maybe that was the Valium talking, but it was awesome.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he was able to toddle out of the laser lab, a pair of specialized sunglasses on his face. He was glad that he could get the procedure then, because although he had aftercare drops and special instructions regarding things like light and showering, he didn’t have to worry about things like bandages over his eyes or anything like that. He could get back to normal, so long as he wore the glasses for twenty-four hours, and then every night when he slept for the next two weeks just to prevent him from rubbing his eyes while he was unconscious.

“Dude, that was crazy fast,” Noctis said when Prompto was with them again. “You feeling okay?”

“I am so damn happy for no reason,” Prompto laughed.

“It’s called ‘Valium’, dear lad,” Ignis advised, amused.

“No, actually, I can actually see without my contacts, Noct! It’s a little blurry, but nothing like it used to be!”

“That’s awesome, Prompto,” Noctis said. “C’mon, you can stay at my place tonight,” he insisted. “Iggy’s staying over, too.”

“You are?” Prompto asked, genuinely surprised.

“Aye,” Ignis acknowledged.

“Oh man, Noct, I got an idea for him,” Prompto gasped out while the two young men helped him through the doors of the exit, after he slammed his shoulder into the center frame and couldn’t figure out what happed.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

———

Ignis was acting as though he was being run through all the circles of Hell at once.

He looked it, sounded like it, it was… hilarious.

“Because we’re stuck, you’re smart, and everything about this game is a puzzle, even the combat!” Prompto defended.

Ignis watched as the avatar he was playing on the big LCD screen in Noctis’s apartment died a horrible, bloody death, and he looked at Noctis, not thrilled at all. “Well. At least I can see why it’s called ‘Bloodborne’. Do they also construct their buildings out of coagulated blood?” Noctis smirked at that, but said nothing.

“You got this, Iggy!” Prompto encouraged, grinning at his sass towards Noctis. “You’re the steward and tactician of the heir to the throne! Lift, lift this burden from his shoulders!”

Ignis sighed out and went to focus on the game. “Just… please tell me when I can stop and take to preparing dinner for you, please,” he said misrably.

Prompto laughed way more than he should’ve at that. No joke, though, he firmly believed that game was made for someone like Ignis! He was totally a booksmart nerd, it was crazy.

* * *

** 1 Year Earlier **

 

When it was announced that there was a betrothal struck between Noctis Lucis Caelum, then nineteen, and Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, then twenty-three, Prompto first heard about it through the news, and he was stunned. Absolutely stunned.

When he met with Noctis and asked if it was true, Noctis confirmed it with a placid expression and a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s actually been a thing since I was eight, but never really… was announced,” he said.

“…so, is that why you never date?”

Noctis just shrugged again.

Prompto couldn’t tell if he was happy or not. Regardless of that, he told Prompto that the wedding would be in one year, held in Altissia, the capital of Accordo. He’d have to travel there, and said he wanted Prompto there with him as his Best Man. “I’d be an idiot not to accept!”

Then the next shock came when Prompto was returning home from his job, to find a set of Crownsguard waiting for him in cars in front of his house. What were they doing there?

His heart nearly stopped when Cor Leonis, Cor the Immortal, Marshal of the Crownsguard stepped out of one of those cars and approached him, squared off at the shoulders and looking so very formal. Prompto flustered and bowed to the legendary man, at a loss for words.

“Prompto Argentum, correct?” he asked, Prompto’s baffled surprise appearing to be vaguely amusing to him.

“Yessir!”

Producing a letter from inside the lapel of his Crownsguard fatigues, he offered it to Prompto. “You are required to show up to the Citadel tomorrow morning to begin training,” he advised firmly.

“Tr-Training?”

“You’re going to be accompanying the prince in a year to his wedding. The journey you’ll be on with him will be a long one, rife with danger. We’re not in the business of sending anyone out beyond the wall without adequate self-defense measures. So, read the letter, and come to the Citadel tomorrow morning, nine sharp. Gladiolus and I will be waiting for you. …and perhaps, his Highness too, if we can get him out of bed and to the Citadel in time. He said you’re an early bird, so I assume this won’t be a problem for you?”

“N-No, sir! No problem at all.”

Prompto bowed again to Cor, and then just stared in utter shock as he departed with his entourage, down the street.

Only when he couldn’t see them anymore, did he run into his house after making his habitual check of the still-empty mailbox.

He ran into his meticulously spotless room, dropping his bag on his bed and pulling off the blue and red shirt he wore as part of his job at the arcade. Then, he opened the letter to find the seal of the King on it, and was just convinced he was going to die from all the surprises being hurdled at him.

 

_Prompto,_

_I cannot thank you enough for the kindness, respect and normalcy that you’ve brought my son over the years since you first befriended him. My hopes had been that he would be able to garner lasting friendships with people who were normal, grounded, and those hopes were starting to fade. Times are simply not the same any longer, compared to when I was young._

_Then, he met you. While I have yet to meet you in person, I have heard plenty about you, and am eternally grateful for your presence in his life. You have not attempted to take advantage of his position in this world, or the wealth behind his name. Instead, you have treated him with the same respect—or, lack thereof—as anyone else with whom you attend school._

_I am honored that you have agreed to serve as the Best Man in his wedding to Lady Lunafreya and, as such, we must prepare you._

_Not in terms of etiquette or formal behaviors. You’re fine the way you are. In terms of the dangers that will face my son and his retainers along the way, however, we must make certain that you can defend yourself at all costs. This is why I sent Cor Leonis to you to personally deliver this letter and extend the order for your presence tomorrow._

_If this training gets in the way of your work, please let Cor or Gladiolus Amicitia know. We will make sure it’s handled for you._

_Many sincere thanks and high regard,_

_His Majesty_

_Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII_

 

Prompto had no idea what to say. He did know that meant he needed to crank it up with his daily exercises, though. If they needed him in ship shape, he had become the expert of that!

———

“What sort of weapon do you think you’d like to learn?” Gladiolus, age twenty-three, asked as he gestured over the wall of wooden training weapons.

Prompto had no idea, and he expressed as much nervously to both Gladio and Cor. “I’ve… never fought anyone or anything,” he admitted. “I’m an athlete, not a fighter.” He was so overwhelmed. Everyone he’d spoken to at the Citadel that day had been so nice, and ready for his arrival. And man, the Citadel was a lot bigger than it looked. It took forever for him to get to the training room.

Cor was about to say something in suggestion, when Noctis shambled into the training room, clearly having been shoved in by Ignis Scientia, who had taken it upon himself to get the prince up to be there for Prompto’s training.

Noctis had apparently heard that part of the conversation. He stretched out his arms, high above his head, to also stretch and pop his back some, while saying, “Guns.”

“Guns?” Cor echoed.

“When we go to the arcade, Prompto’s aim is… well… no one’s been able to beat his scores,” Noctis elaborated. “His hand-eye coordination is on spot.”

There was something so different about Noctis. He wouldn’t smile, and he seemed to care about nothing in the way he paced around. Ignis once told Prompto to the side that Noctis was a whole different creature, depending on his company and surroundings, and Prompto believed that after seeing him doing volunteer work, or avoiding people in school, while running around and getting into trouble with him. But this was something new, and Prompto couldn’t put his finger on it.

Did Noctis hate being a prince that much…?

While he was reflecting on that, Cor was discussing the revelation over with Gladio. “I’ve never been one for guns,” he said.

“Neither have I, but I’ve taught Noct how to use ‘em, so I could teach him,” Gladio replied.

“It would behoove us to have a ranged fighter in the group,” Ignis said from the doorway. “The only true range we have is magic. Fewer things in this world can stop bullets compared to stopping magic damage.”

“Let’s get him a couple of guns and see what he can do down in the Crownsguard training ground,” Cor said immediately.

It was kind of a haze for Prompto, traveling through the Citadel with such important people that they were given the right-away at all times, and Noctis and Cor were bowed to when they passed through. Did this happen all the time?

No wonder Noctis wanted to live elsewhere. He was a private guy, and in the right setting, kind of shy. He didn’t like being called ‘prince’ by people who he wanted to be equals with. Really, no wonder.

He came out of his haze when he felt a gun, a real gun, placed in his hands. It was a standard semi-automatic with standard rounds, and an advanced sight on it. Cor had called ahead, and had some makeshift targets set up in the grounds and had everyone clear out in the way which Prompto would fire.

Gladio came up to him and adjusted his hands on the gun. “Hold it tight,” he directed. “It’s not like a video game gun. It’s got a kick and will fly out of your hands.”

“And if it doesn’t do that, it flopping around can cause the gun to jam,” Noctis told Prompto.

“Okay. …am I going to get ear…things?” he asked. “You know, because it’s loud?”

“Nope,” Cor said, shaking his head. “You will have to fight at some point once you leave the city. I’d rather you feel what it’s like to fire that weapon without protection in your ears now.”

Prompto laughed nervously. “Wow… you… you guys are really hardcore…”

“It’s serious business,” Gladio confirmed. He took several steps back, and Noctis followed him, but not before stopping by Prompto.

“You can do it. Just think about the games at the arcade,” he whispered. “Try to get headshots, or shots directly to the heart.” The way he said that, it sounded as though he had a plan.

Prompto just nodded shortly, and advised, “I-I’m gonna take a test shot, just so I know how this feels and sounds. I’m not looking to hit anything, okay?”

“Do what you need to, son,” Cor encouraged. “This is for you. The protection of Prince Noctis is up to Ignis and Gladiolus.”

“Right.”

Prompto took a deep breath and raised the gun, holding it the way Gladio showed him. Right hand around the grip and on the trigger, left cradling under the magazine, and a slight crook in his arms. He fired at one of the seven targets without really aiming, and he cringed and drew back, clapping a hand over his ear and making sure the gun was pointing downward. “How do you do that?!” he exclaimed. “God!”

“You get used to it after a little while,” Noctis said blandly. “You’ll lose like… fifteen percent of your hearing, but if you have to fight with a gun, you don’t want to be doing that the whole time.”

“Right, right.” Prompto flinched and shook out his head. It hurt a lot.

“Take your time,” Cor told Prompto. “Though it’ll be easier the next time if your ears are still ringing.”

“Okay.” That was insane, but Prompto would listen. It was freaking Cor the Immortal, and man, he was nice. He seemed like a rough guy, but he was being legitimately caring about Prompto’s well-being.

Prompto was secretly a puppy that needed endless care, so the fact that Cor was being so nice, that Noctis was there with Ignis and Gladio, and they were all there for him, it was nice.

While the ringing was continuing, but the headache was fading, Prompto raised the gun again.

‘Try to get headshots, or shots directly to the heart,’ Noctis had whispered.

He could do that.

He could do better than that, so long as he could handle the sound.

Starting left and going right, Prompto started to rapid fire the weapon on the human shaped silhouettes that were tacked onto what appeared to be combat practice dummies. He struck them in the chest, and then the head, each and every one.

Well, aside from the last two. Prompto didn’t know he only had twelve rounds, so when he reached dummy six of seven, he got the chest shot in, and then was baffled when the gun’s barrel pushed back, open and showing there were no more bullets within.

That didn’t seem to matter, because Noctis clapped his hands together and said, “I fucking told you, Cor!”

“Not bad, kid,” Cor complimented Prompto. “Can you do it again?”

Prompto was rubbing at his ears and found himself laughing a bit bashfully. “I mean, sure, I can try!”

“Gladio, go get him a rifle,” Cor ordered. Gladio nodded once and went for a weapon locker nearby. The Marshal, meanwhile, remained focused on Prompto. “Noctis tells us that you were on the track team and participate in a lot of sports in school.”

“Yes, sir,” Prompto acknowledged. “I still run every morning, no less than five miles.”

“How in the hell did you get to be friends with him?” Cor asked Noctis. It was immediately clear that their relationship was a mutually sassy one.

“Ask him, he’s the one what wanted something to do with me for some reason. Not like I gave him a reason.” Cor smirked at that.

Gladio returned then with a large, black rifle. “Colt AR-15, semi-automatic,” he introduced, before giving it to Prompto and instructing him on how to hold it and trigger the safety. “You have thirty rounds.”

Prompto took note, and then raised the weapon as Gladio backed off and to the others. His heart was pounding, but he kept completely still and serious as he focused on the targets. Seven targets, thirty rounds. That was, what, four bullets per target, and two left over?

“Okay,” he murmured to himself, while the others waited patiently. “You can do this.”

Trying to channel his mindset when he and Noctis were in the arcade, he started to fire. Instead of planting the bullets into one target at a time, he instead fired first on the knees, delivering two bullets to each target silhouette’s knees, straight down the line, left to right. He then raised his weapon, and started hitting them, chest and head, chest and head, right to left.

Because they clearly wanted to see… something. He wasn’t sure what, beyond if he could learn to use a weapon, he fired on the necks of the two targets that, thanks to the staggered setup, were closest.

The magazine completely spent, he turned to look at the group, wobbling a little because the gunfire was knocking him off his equilibrium quite a bit.

“I fucking told you,” Noctis spat at Cor.

“I have to admit, the boy does have skills,” Cor agreed, folding his arms.

“Then accept him,” Noctis pressed.

“You do have to admit, it’d be a lot more badass with three of us, plus Noct,” Gladio remarked.

“Wh-What’s going on…?” Prompto asked, eyes wide.

Cor looked over to Ignis, as if seeking his opinion, which Ignis gave. “Given he’s had no professional training, I would say that a year’s worth could make him worthy to be full-fledged with his ballistic skills alone,” the steward said calmly.

Were they really…?

Finally, Cor-the-freaking-Immortal nodded his head, looking to Prompto. “I need you to quit your job.”

“Whoa, what, why? I like earning money, though!”

“And you will be,” Cor said. “Welcome to the Crownsguard, and welcome to your training to become a retainer of the prince.”

Prompto’s eyes went wide as his eyebrows nearly slammed into his hairline. “Wh-Wha—?”

Noctis held out his hands and shrugged. “I had to make sure you proved yourself. The training was a done deal, but Gladio’s right: When we leave for Altissia, it’ll look way, way more badass if it’s three Crownsguard and me. Besides, this will pay way better than the arcade. You could save up for a car, or a motorcycle, whatever you want.”

“And you’d be entitled to live here at the Citadel, if you so choose,” Ignis said.

“Well?” Cor pressed, watching the overwhelmed 20-year-old.

“I… wow.” Prompto was speechless. “I mean, you know I’m just a plebe, right? I’m not, like, nobility or royalty, or—”

“I wasn’t either, when I started traveling with King Regis,” Cor said, folding his arms and unrelenting in his visual study of Prompto. “I was just some teenager that had a couple skills. Titles don’t matter right now. Lineage doesn’t matter. The prince has spoken on behalf of you to request you as his retainer, and to be a member of the Crownsguard. What says you?”

Prompto was stunned about that little information drop as much as anything else. He looked at Noctis, who watched him intently. He’d be able to stick with him, keep him safe, and even get a chance to thank Lunafreya for motivating him to change his whole life…

“Okay,” he said, finally, wishing his voice wasn’t so shaky from the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing. “I-I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, why's that still saying 3/? chapters?
> 
> Unlesssss.....


	4. BONUS ROUND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another's take of growing up with the Prince of Lucis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: There are repeat years in this one, but I think you’ll get it, if you read the previous chapters, as to why!
> 
> Also: VAGUE endgame spoilers, yo.

 

** 11 Years Earlier **

 

“Sit up straight.”

His back hurt.

“If you’re going to relax in conversation, fold your hands in your lap if you’re with allies and friends. Very good. When you’re with those you don’t consider friends or allies, you rest your arms on the armrests. Do you know why we do it this way?”

“The first way is aesthetically pleasing to see of a prince, and the second way is to stay alert, but not to look aggressive,” was the droned response.

“Very good.”

Nine year old Noctis stared at his etiquette tutor in silence after she congratulated him like a dog, and immediately went from holding his hands in his lap to resting them on the armrests of the dining room chair. The tutor, Mrs. Irodol, gave him a flat stare, which he returned in perfection.

“I’m tired,” he announced blandly. No he wasn’t. His back hurt. “I’m leaving.”

“Prince Noctis, we’re not yet done!” Mrs. Irodol protested as the child stood up to leave.

Noctis stared up at her with a blank expression, shrugged, and walked out anyway. He wanted to go to his room. On the way, he passed the glaring Gladiolus Amicitia, who pulled from his post by the dining hall to dutifully follow the prince.

At the elevator, Noctis stepped in, turned around and looked up at Gladio. “Do what you want,” was all the child said, before punching the ‘Close Doors’ button and preventing him from entering the elevator.

He heard what was something slamming into the doors on that floor as the elevator lifted up for his bedroom’s floor. Gladio probably punched the elevator doors. Why the heck were they sticking Gladio with him, anyway? He treated Noctis like crap, and had no interest in getting to know him.

Noctis wondered what Ignis was up to… he was probably busy with tutors, too.

It would’ve been nice to have him around, though. He felt like he was going to need him, the longer he stayed in one place, and allowed the pain to grow into anxiety.

That thought passed through his head as he crossed out of the elevator, and down the hall, his little hands in tight fists. He needed to get to his room. His back hurt and he couldn’t breathe.

Just as he got to his doors, he could see Gladio had caught up from running and alternative elevators. Noctis didn’t acknowledge him as he went into his room and closed the door, locking it so not Gladio, not anyone, could enter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk at all, but…

In the privacy of his room, Noctis pinched his own nose closed as he fell to the floor, and rolled onto his side, trying to relieve the pain in his back and his chest. It was so bad that tears were falling from his eyes, and he hoped not to sob out if he pinched his nose. That seemed to always work, even though it usually made him hurt as the anxiety turned to panic.

He didn’t want anyone to know… but he wished Ignis was there to help him.

He liked his lessons, but he always had to cut them short because his body still hurt so bad after a year of healing. He didn’t care if it made him look like a brat, he didn’t care that it made everyone hate him as much as they did, so long as no one ever saw him crying. Panicking as the pain reminded him of his injuries and the death he witnessed. Princes and Kings don’t cry, and they certainly didn’t panic.

His back hurt so bad.

He wished he could go to his dad.

* * *

** 10 Years Earlier **

 

“Shall I rid of the tray now?”

“No, I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”

“… Of course. Call me if you need me.”

There was no response as Ignis Scientia left the room, leaving Noctis Lucis Caelum to slowly eat the muffin he’d pulled apart into meticulous little bits, just big enough to eat practically. ‘Never be caught with your mouth full,’ Mrs. Irodol once told him. ‘As a prince, and a king, you may need to speak at a moment’s notice. If your mouth is packed like a hamster, that makes you look like a glutton and, dare I say, ignorant. So you either always eat with a knife and fork, or you pull your food apart and eat it in bits. Small bits.’

It was a lecture he received his entire childhood until it became second nature. Pull apart sandwiches, pull apartment muffins, eat pizza with a fork and knife, take small bites, never be caught off guard with your mouth full, you have to be alert and ready at all times.

He paused in what he was doing to look at the long bruises on his arm, from a large wooden training sword striking him. Now, he didn’t actually find those offensive; he wasn’t mad at all. Gladiolus Amicitia was doing his job in being so rough with him. The problem was that everything still made his back hurt. It hurt so bad he could cry, sometimes. But crying in front of others was another manner of etiquette that was browbeat out of him. So, he quit. He walked out and refused to speak because if he spoke, he’d start crying. If he started crying, it’d get back to the etiquette tutor, and they’d have to go through all the coping skills to keep from crying in front of others again. He _knew_ all the skills, and he would do anything he could to avoid those lessons again. Yes, it made Gladio angry, but…

He didn’t want to admit he was in pain, either. Like a wounded animal, it was a sign of weakness, so he’d rather retreat to his den and lick his wounds rather than to be called out for what was truly going on.

By the time he finished his muffin, his back felt better. The burning had stopped for the time being, at least. Thus, he picked up the tray to take it to the kitchens as he promised Ignis he would.

About halfway to the kitchens, he rounded a corner and spied his father with his advisors in the hallway. He stopped where he was, his eyes getting a little larger in spite of himself. Could he approach him? Should he?

Life answered for him when Regis Lucis Caelum glanced over and offered Noctis a small smile, just before heading into a meeting room. Noctis took in a breath, like he was going to say something to him, but ended up just looking to the floor. His dad was busy. He didn’t need the added distraction of his son.

So, Noctis took a deep breath and navigated the rest of the way to the kitchen. He was about to push through the doors there, but paused as he heard someone mention him. “The prince doesn’t like any vegetables,” a man advised.

“Gods above, he’s really as picky as they say?”

“He’s… extremely prejudicial.”

“I swear, his father coddled him too much. My mother wouldn’t even allow me to leave the table when I was that age until I ate at least all my vegetables.”

“Same here, but neither of us are the prince of the entire country, now are we?”

Noctis stared at the door in silence. While the conversation wasn’t actually that horrible, for a little boy, it was akin to someone laughing in his face and pulling down his pants.

As such, he slammed the tray to the floor, loud enough for the people inside to hear it, and took off running. He was used to people talking about him behind his back, but it didn’t stop hurting him as a child who tended to wish people could just forget about him for even an hour, so he could be nothing, a simple shadow that could hide away and do what he wanted. He would later reflect on all of it and realize that not all of the conversations he overheard were bad, but more bemused and amused over his quirks, but in the moment… it was all the same. Everyone thought he was a spoiled brat.

As Noctis had run off to hide away, he missed when the kitchen doors swung up to Ignis standing there. When he spied the tray on the floor, he frowned and picked it up, looking it and the muffins papers that had fallen off of it curiously. ‘Did Noctis just throw the tray across the hall and to the door?’ the young steward wondered. Because of the way Noctis was, Ignis would take a long time to realize that that wasn’t Noctis’s M.O., since it wasn’t like Noctis was prone to talking to him any longer.

Noctis, quite frankly, was fine with that belief, so long as it kept Ignis and everyone else away from him if they planned to just tell him what to do, especially when he was hurting.

* * *

 ** 8 Years Earlier **

 

“Think you’ll be able to repeat that again tomorrow?”

“I mean… I’ll try, sure.”

As time went on, the pain in Noctis’s body didn’t really go away, but the consistency with which it was present dulled his awareness to it. There were times it got worse, and there were times it even felt a little better, but most the time, it stayed at its baseline, and after four years, Noctis knew how to deal with it so long as it didn’t get too out of hand.

It helped that Gladiolus had become far kinder to him following the aftermath of his sister running off on her own to chase a cat, and Noctis following her to bring her back to the Citadel. They were actually building a friendship. It was a rough-n-tumble type of friendship, but Noctis was fine with that. Gladio was someone that enjoyed rough-n-tumble, and so Noctis was fine with that. It was fun to train now that they got along, and Gladio had more patience when Noctis wanted breaks.

“What did you think about those Glaives?” Gladio asked, once they were well out of the range of the Kingsglaive training yard.

“They know what they’re doing,” Noctis replied with a shrug. In reality, he wanted to insist that he never wanted to go back there, that the audience was way, way too big. He was glad--really, really glad that Gladio allowed him to leave after that first attempt, when he learned they had an audience. He didn’t say it, but he was really glad. It was hard to deal with a million eyes on him.

“Yeah, they do. Do you want to train with them in the future?” Gladio asked.

“Nah, I’ll remember what they had me do today,” Noctis replied with a passive shrug. “Besides, I don’t want to make you teacher-jealous or anything.” The way it came out was so sedate and monotone that could have easily been seen as an insult.

However, Gladio took it the way it was meant, and slapped Noctis upside the head in response.

“Ow!” Noctis blurted, indignantly rubbing his head. He’d been expecting it, though. “Man, you’re such a jerk.”

Gladio smirked and pushed Noctis on ahead, the boy stumbling a bit as he went. “Go on and get a nap in before the rest of your classes for the evening,” he encouraged.

“You sure?” Noctis asked, turning to look at Gladio. Normally, Gladio wanted as much time as possible. Did he look like he was tired or something?

“Yeah, go on,” Gladio urged. “We’ll talk tomorrow about how to get a repeat success on that, okay?” He flicked his finger across Noctis’s forehead. “Go on, catch up on your Zs.”

“Okay.” Noctis watches as Gladio headed off for the training room. He wanted to tell him that he could still do some more practice for the day, but he really was tired, too.

They said he was tired because he was connected to the Crystal, and that connection took a lot out of him. If just getting powers from it did that to him, he wondered how his father was able to get up in the morning at all.

At least Gladio was understanding him. Gladio was a cool guy, once one was on the right side of him. He was funny and kind-hearted, but it was clear that he wasn’t afraid to fight if he needed to. The fact that he was going to be Noctis’s Shield gave the boy prince comfort in the future. He felt like he’d never be strong enough or good enough to fight anyone, so he was happy that his future Shield was there.

He was also happy that he didn’t have to say all of that to make Gladio aware that he felt that way. Gladio seemed to understand what he was saying a lot of the time in the small behaviors and hints he dropped. It was way easier than getting frustrated because no one understood, and Noctis was too afraid to outright say anything.

Did normal kids have to go through all of that? 

* * *

 

** 5 Years Earlier **

 

He had to admit… he doubted the blond boy.

Not right away. Prompto Argentum was so cheerful and friendly and warm-hearted, Noctis didn’t think anything about it aside from slight, second-nature wariness.

But as he sat in class, time ticking on before he was due to meet with Prompto to go to the arcade, Noctis found himself staring out the window of his classroom, worried. What did he want? What did Prompto seek to gain out of trying to befriend him?

Years of being around people who wouldn’t stop kissing his ass and trying to get into his good graces had taught Noctis to be wary of anyone who approached him. Yes, Prompto approached him in an entirely different way from all the others, but… _why_? What did he want?

Noctis was damn close to canceling the trip to the arcade out of sheer fear that he was about to be duped, used because of what he was. When the lunch bell rang and people started to scatter for the hour, Noctis stood up and left the room with the intent of trying to find the blond and watch him from afar to try to get a read on him.

He didn’t have to look far.

“No way, I can do it!” Prompto snapped at some guys, and took off towards a guy that was bent down and tying his shoe.

Prompto intended to jump over him like a hurdle, but the guy clearly didn’t know what was happening, and the minute Prompto went airborne, the guy stood up, and Prompto ended up crashing into the tile floor, onlookers making various, sympathetic cringes and sounds. Prompto flopped around onto his back and threw up two thumbs. “I’m okay!” which earned him a round of applause.

“Prince Noctis,” a girl from Noctis’s class beckoned. He flinched but turned to look down at the girl with blonde curls and a big smile. “Everyone’s saying that you and Prompto Argentum were talking before class! Did you two become friends over summer break or something?!” she asked.

Noctis glanced up at the eager faces waiting several feet back. Oh. So, they sent a sacrificial lamb in case he decided to lose his mind at the interrogation. Not that he ever had, but he was sure people were still afraid of that.

“No,” he replied distantly. “We started talking this morning.”

“Oh~ We should’ve figured you two would become friends,” the girl said, as though Noctis replied with something entirely different. Who was she again? She’d been in his class for several years, yet he couldn’t remember her name. Rebecca? Ivory? Michelle? Paulette Francisco III?

“Why’s that,” Noctis asked, though it came out as a statement that had absolutely no energy or enthusiasm to it.

“He’s just… a lot like you are, you know? I mean, he’s more outgoing, but I don’t think any of us have ever seen real friends of his!”

Noctis tilted his head and stared at her. That was valuable information, actually. Was Prompto really popular or something? If so, how did he have no real friends? Was… that it? Did he see a kindred spirit there or something?

That was when Noctis did something he never did before, and he would never do again, but he wanted more information. “Where are you going to have lunch? I have questions.”

It looked like the girl died for a moment, before she broke out in a big smile.

Noctis just knew he was going to regret it.

Oh, he did it to himself, but he was going to regret it because it was like nearly every girl who spoke to him was trying to get that ‘fairytale ending’ and nothing else. There were like… two girls he’d ever met that felt normal in their interactions, but they were fleeting cast members in his life, moving from school before Noctis could decide if he wanted to befriend them beyond school projects.

Not like the girls before him though.

They were the typical ones.

He had to fight to be nice, but damn. He regretted it, despite the information he dragged out of them about Prompto, and it was only that fall in the hallway, and the information those girls gave him, that really settled it.

That, and they confirmed his suspicions: Prompto was the boy with the camera five years ago, who tried to approach him. What a change that five years made.

———

He was genuinely glad he made the choice to give Prompto a shot.

When he was staring at their scores at the arcade, where Prompto absolutely blew him out of the water in the zombie shooter game, any sort of wall he had up against getting too keen with the guy crumbled away, because the only people in his life who didn’t ‘let’ him win things to date were Gladio and Ignis. It was probably a silly thing to base everything on, but it was the only thing that he had left to try to justify pushing the blond away from him.

When their time was done, and Noctis knew that Ignis would be waiting outside for him, they had gone through almost the entire arcade, each being better than the other in almost equal quantities. Anything that required pinpoint accuracy, Prompto was on top of it. Anything that required tactical skill and an understanding of large control schemes or movements, Noctis was better. It was absolutely a great time.

“We should do this again,” Noctis said as the boys started for the exit. He could see Ignis standing outside the car, waiting.

“I’d really like that,” Prompto laughed. He was so much more cheerful than Noctis, and that light-heartedness was nice. He didn’t seem to be trying to be something he wasn’t. Something he proved when he clacked his teeth. “Aw man, but not tomorrow. I got track practice, and then basketball club.” Anyone trying to get in good with Noctis and impress him for their motives would’ve dropped all of that in the hopes the risk would be worth the payoff.

“So, you’re a runner?”

“Yeah! I run every day, so it seemed kinda natural to sign up for track last year.”

“I didn’t realize the clubs already had their sign-ups,” Noctis tested. He wasn’t personally interested in any of them, but he wanted to hear what Prompto would say.

“They haven’t, but last year’s club is holding firm and most people stayed members, so the school said we could just jump to it. Since most of us have other things we’re doing, it gets held at about six in the evening.”

“Shit, I couldn’t do that.” When they got out the doors, Noctis gestured to the car. “You wanna get a ride home?”

“Wha—really?” Prompto was so surprised.

It drove home the fact that someone could be so popular and yet not have a single kind person to turn to. Noctis didn’t even understand how alike they were in that respect. He didn’t feel popular for any reason other than he was a prince. At least Prompto worked for it.

“Yeah, really,” Noctis said, offering a smile. He patted Prompto on the shoulder and headed over to Ignis. “Yo, Iggy.”

While Ignis was his normal, placid and professional self, Noctis had no idea how happy he actually was that it appeared that Noctis was getting a friend, and one that wasn’t connected to all the things he wished he didn’t have to worry about in life. “Good afternoon, Noct,” he greeted.

“This is Prompto Argentum,” Noctis went on, gesturing. “Prompto, this is Ignis Scientia. He’s, ah, a friend. From home.”

“Nice to meet you!” Prompto said after blinking, clearly processing something about Noctis’s offer that was apparently quite difficult.

“Likewise,” Ignis replied, bowing to him.

“Can we drop him off at home on the way?” Noctis asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Ignis replied. He pulled his phone, unlocked it, and pulled up his GPS program, before offering it to Prompto. “If you wouldn’t mind providing me your home address, Prompto?”

“Ye-Yeah! Okay.” Prompto did as was asked, while Ignis opened the back door for Noctis to get into the car. Once he was done, he passed it to Ignis. “Thanks a lot,” he said eagerly.

“It’s absolutely no problem.” He gestured for Prompto to get in, whose eyes were huge as he dropped into the expensive vehicle, and he looked around it, curious.

“Dude, I thought it’d be more… like… a swimming pool and a bunch of cute girls in bikinis in here,” Prompto joked.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Noctis said, smirking a bit. “That car’s reserved for Sundays only.” That got a hardy laugh out of his new… friend?

Yeah…

His new friend.

* * *

 ** 4 Years Earlier **

 

After Gladiolus took the key to Noctis’s apartment to make copies for him, Ignis and Cor, Noctis locked the door as he was told to, and headed across and into the bedroom hallway. When he reached the master bedroom, he took some time to pull open the windows that lined one wall, and the doors that led to the balcony, which was separate to the one of the main area of the apartment.

He turned around to head back to his bed, when he was greeted by the dark-colored Umbra, who had appeared out of nowhere, and was sitting, waiting patiently for him. He smiled broadly and dropped to a knee, going to rub the dog’s ears. “Hey, boy,” he said gently. “It’s good to see you. Bringing notes from Luna for me again?”

Umbra let out a soft bark in acknowledgment, and Noctis reached around to pluck the notebook used by him and Lady Lunafreya to talk. The Empire had cut her off completely from the world, and it was the only way they could talk to one another. While Noctis had awareness that it looked odd to fall in love with a girl one was penpals with, was it really that different than people who only spoke to one another online and fell in love? He didn’t think so.

He headed over to the bed and flipped open the book to the most recent page, to start reading what Luna had written there, and his face immediately fell.

 

_Dearest Noctis,_

_I hope you are well. I am sorry it has taken me this long to write you. I was unable to write after having a bit of a fall and breaking my wrist some time ago, and only now have gotten to write you._

_How are you? How is school? Your friends? I would so love to hear all about it. Your tales provide a much-needed light when the world is dark for me._

_My prayers are with you,_

_Luna_

 

That was such a sad way to say, ‘I’m having a terrible time, please distract me?’ and it hurt. It hurt a lot. God, if only he could get to her and get her away from them. As he got older and learned more and more about the horrors that befell the monarchs and their children of countries annexed by the Empire, the more sick he became with worry over Luna and her well-being.

He just didn’t know how to do that.

It would take too long to start writing right then, and so he looked to Umbra. “Hang on a minute.” He went to the study materials on his bed, and ripped a page out of the back of his text book. It wasn’t the first time he did that. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to pay to replace it.

 

_Luna,_

_I’m sending Umbra back to you without the notebook so I can get enough time to write everything. Send him back tomorrow, okay?_

_\- Noct_

 

That note was tucked into Umbra’s pouch, and he rubbed him atop his head. “Take that home to her, okay, boy?”

Umbra wagged his tail in approval and stood up, trotting off through the room, vanishing from sight progressively as he went along.

Noctis took a deep breath and went to his bed, tucking the notebook under his pillow for safekeeping. His intention was to sit down, do his homework, deal with Gladio when he returned, and then get to writing once he left.

What ended up happening was Noctis trailing off into a daydream as he just stared at his textbook. It wasn’t anything of clear order. Just a dream of getting to Luna and pulling her to safety, and never letting her go. The fact that it was just a dream, and couldn’t be reality… it hurt him even more, and it left him despondent when Gladio returned.

“Hey, I’m back,” Gladio said, speaking rather quietly for him.

“Hey,” was all Noctis could muster to say. He couldn’t even look at the man, so lost in a whirlwind of depressive self-deprecation regarding his helplessness.

He wasn’t sure if Gladio responded right away, or if there had been a lapse of time, but Gladio finally said, “I’m gonna head out, Noct. I’ll get the door locked.”

“’kay. ‘night.” He wanted to offer Gladio something to drink, but he just… sat there. He didn’t have the energy.

“’night.”

Noctis looked up and tilted his head, waiting to hear the door out close and lock. As soon as he was absolutely certain that Gladio was well on his way, he dropped the stylus he’d been holding and covered his face, tears biting at his eyes. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

* * *

** 4 Years Earlier **

 

About two weeks into Noctis moving out from his place in the Citadel and settling into an apartment, he received word that his father wanted to have a late lunch-early dinner with him. That he’d be setting aside time to do so. It was weird, only because the last time they were able to have a meal together, Noctis was nine years old. The excitement he might’ve felt as a child over such a request was nowhere to be found. Instead, cynicism took over, and he tossed the letter he received across the room in a crumpled mess. “Of course he does, now that I’m not there anymore,” he grumbled.

Needless to say, when the day came and they were both seated at the long dining table that was dedicated solely to them and their guests, it started out awkward at best.

“How’s school?” Regis asked as he scooped up a spoon of soup.

“Fine,” was all Noctis offered. He had nothing to say about it. He loved his father, but there was no connection there. Not anymore, and it went beyond just being a teenager. His father wasn’t able to be around for him a lot, and it left a rift, even though Noctis understood why things were the way they were.

So, after that single worded answer, Noctis busied himself with his food. He didn’t want the soup, because he could see the vegetables and Ignis wasn’t the one to make it, so he wouldn’t touch it. Ignis knew how to make things so he didn’t taste the vegetables.

The food on his plate for the main course was touching, so he had to separate them. That was easier to do after he pulled the greenery on the plate off, and dropped it in his soup.

His father, so used to Noctis’s pickiness, didn’t even bat an eyelash. He should’ve asked for Ignis to cook if he wanted Noctis to even consider trying the vegetables.

“I heard you have a friend,” Regis commented.

Noctis paused from his efforts to bring order to his plate and looked up at Regis briefly. “Oh yeah?”

“Is he a good friend, or is he around because you’re bored?”

“The former,” Noctis replied, lowering his eyes back to his plate. Since when the hell did he ever use someone because he was bored? He didn’t have the energy to be outwardly insulted by that, but he definitely was on the inside.

“Good. I’m told you two get up to quite a lot of mischief.” Noctis looked at Regis, face unreadable, but he was wondering if Ignis sold him out regarding his broken arm. He would strangle that guy… “I’m glad.”

Noctis tilted his head. “Glad?”

“It’s important for anyone to have a good friend they can rely on and have a good time with, but especially in our case, it’s even more important that that friend be free of the burdens placed on the likes of Ignis and Gladiolus,” Regis explained. “Someone who will talk to you like you’re a person, not an object. Who will argue with you, and not cater to you, and won’t think to ask about your royal duties. It’s good to escape such things once in a while when you’re young.”

“I guess.”

“Prompto Argentum, correct?”

“Ugh, don’t tell me you did a background check on him,” Noctis requested through a groan, setting his utensils down and rubbing his face with an ugly sigh.

“Not exactly a background check, but some research was done on him, just to ensure where he came from.”

Even years later, Noctis wouldn’t realize the gravity of that statement. Even when revelations about Prompto became known, not once would Noctis think back on Regis’s comment and assume that meant something deeper.

“God, don’t do that, please,” Noctis groaned with all the embarrassment a teenager could afford.

“Are you in the same class together?” Regis asked, unrelenting against Noctis’s discomfort.

“No. He’s next door to mine.”

“Hm. Ignis tells me he doesn’t have his parents around very often.”

That fucking, no-good traitor. “…yeah. He’s alone most the time.”

“Is he alright?”

“ _God_. I assume so? What’s the point of this?” Noctis asked, dropping his hands and staring at Regis, unhappy. Bored. Embarrassed. All the things that made no sense, and yet were common to teenagers.

Regis smiled a bit at Noctis. “Would you like him in your class?”

Noctis stopped and blinked. “…you’d do that?”

“Yes, if you’d like it, and he would as well. From everything I’ve heard, he’s a great friend to you. If you’d like it better if he was in the same class as you, I’ll make the school switch him. I’d offer to move you to his, but I’m sure you don’t want to have to stand in front of the class and introduce yourself to everyone.”

“True.” Noctis looked at his plate for a moment. It’d be awesome to not have to sit and stare out the window, waiting for break and final bells to be able to leave just so he could find someone he actually liked and trusted to speak with. “I’ll ask him,” he said after a long pause. “I’ll let you know… I was going to be having him over tomorrow, since Iggy says that everything’ll be ready in my apartment by then, so I’ll ask him then and have Ignis report in.”

“Wonderful,” Regis said, smiling a little more. “While I wish you would’ve stayed here, you’ve made me proud in this display of independence, son.”

“Please, you still have everyone doing everything for me,” Noctis brushed off.

“Well, that’s because you don’t know how doors work half the time. You need _someone_ to take care of you.”

Noctis’s mouth fell open, and he was so insulted, but also pretty amused that _that_ was Regis’s retort. “Are you calling me an idiot?” Noctis asked, an edge of humor to his offended tone.

“No, I’m calling you ‘book smart’.”

Noctis’s mouth fell open more, and Regis offered him a knowing smile in return.

“Man, if only the people knew how rude you were to your son,” Noctis shot, clutching his chest dramatically.

“If only the people knew you once didn’t know what a fire extinguisher was, at the age of _thirteen_.”

“Dude, I can’t help if I’ve been sheltered!” Noctis defended, but it was with a faint smile on his face.

It might’ve taken a while to get him to warm up to the conversation, and in the future, it’d take even more effort on Regis’s part to get him to that point again, but when it happened, it felt good. Noctis did love his old man, but they were such different people, and Noctis barely really knew him. He’d spent more of his life in the hands of tutors, attendants and servants than he had with his father, after all.

But still, once the ice thawed, it was… fun, talking to his father and joking around with him. It wouldn’t last forever, because Regis only had an hour to spare, but it was a nice hour after they really got started. It made Noctis wish for the old days, when Regis had more time for him to read him bedtime stories at least a few times a week, and spared the time to eat dinner with him every night.

Alas, good things couldn’t last forever, could they?

* * *

** 3 Years Earlier **

 

Noctis felt like he was dying.

Was it the smartest thing in the world, going out in the middle of a wintry night to deliver coats to those who needed them without one of his own? Nope.

Would he do it again if he had to? Yep.

While Noctis told Prompto that he avoided the press by doing charity at night, that was half the truth. He didn’t want credit for the things he did. If people wanted to think he was the biggest, most spoiled asshole that has ever lived, so be it. Attention on the scale that he got made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want praise, because that made him uncomfortable, too. What made what he did any more special than the people who dedicated their lives to such stuff?

So yeah, he wrote big checks and asked for anonymity, and he ran around in the night to help people for the various charities and institutions he worked with. He didn’t share that with Ignis or Gladio, or anyone really, until Prompto. Prompto didn’t praise him for something he didn’t want praise for, unless he was joking around. Ignis and Gladio would learn in time that his currency was being joked with if they wanted further in the door with him, but Prompto was already liked that. If he complimented Noctis, it was usually followed up by a joke, or mockery, or… something to alleviate the anxiety caused by that.

Ultimately though… he’d been an idiot.

The catalyst of that realization only really came to him when he realized Ignis was pushing him into his apartment building’s elevator, after tying him to his own office chair.

“Iggy,” he beckoned with his dry throat and lack of a voice, the world spinning and his thoughts in complete chaos. “Iggy, Iggy, Iggy—”

“What is it, Noct? I’m trying to call the doctor so he’s ready for us,” Ignis said as the elevator descended.

“Do you—do you think if I screamed—screamed ‘help’ at Security, they’d think—you’re abducting me?”

“That’s not even remotely funny,” Ignis said, while Noctis started a series of wet coughs because he’d tried to laugh at the mental image.

Screwing around with and irritating Ignis was funny.

Yeah, he was rough on Ignis more times than not those days, ignoring him when Ignis was there and he came home from school. Yes, he even yelled at him after he learned that his father was walking with a cane, and Ignis scolded him on the importance of becoming and being king. But… ultimately, Ignis was his friend. As such…

“Iggy— _Iggy_ —”

“Yes, we’re on the way right-- _What_?” Ignis clearly had been trying to speak to the doctor, or someone for the doctor.

“Iggy, this elevator’s making me sick.” Noctis had no idea his words were slurred and broken. In reality, that statement came out as, ‘Iggy, th’elevador’s makin’ m’sick.’ Every sentence he said sounded like that.

“Please, _please_ try to hold on, Noct—no, no ambulances. We don’t need the attention that will bring,” Ignis said in his multitasking between Noctis and his phone. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take it slow until the turnpike. I appreciate it.”

Ignis hung up and Noctis dropped his head back to look up at his steward, while Ignis took hold of his chair when the elevator opened to the lobby, to start pushing him out for the car. “What was that?” Noctis asked. (’Wh’was dat?’ more like.)

“Cor’s going to arrange traffic blocks starting at the turnpike so I can get you to the Citadel without any interruption, civilian or law enforcement alike,” he said.

“Why you gotta do me like that, Iggy?” Noctis complained. “Why’s Cor gotta get involved? With his stupid… katana and his stupid face…”

“Because you’re in a bad way.” Ignis nodded to the Security desk attendants as he pushed Noctis along. Sadly, that was probably one of the least odd things they saw since Noctis moved in.

Like the time Noctis got in a shopping cart he bought online and made Prompto and Gladio push him, all while he stood in a victory pose with a sword and in a hula skirt made of toilet paper.

Yeah.

He was fine with the attention something like that drew.

It made him look like a spoiled nutbag and kept people away from him.

Ignis knew he didn’t like too many people around him, which is why he knew Ignis didn’t ask for help with getting him to the car via the Security desk.

It was a struggle to get into Ignis’s car, too. Noctis preemptively tried to stand when the door opened, but nearly went down with the chair because he was still tied to it. Ignis was fast, though, and stronger than he was, especially like that. Once he was cut loose, then he was able to stand with Ignis’s help and get into the car. He flopped kind of uselessly as Ignis pulled out a small package from his glove compartment. Unfolding it a few times and then with a shake, he produced a plastic bag to Noctis.

“Noct, if you get sick, please use this,” he requested as he put some kind of loop attached to it around Noctis’s wrist.

“’kay.” That hand snapped up so fast, he narrowly missed slapping Ignis in the face. “Why?” he asked about the loop.

“Two reasons: So you don’t drop it, and so it doesn’t blow out of the car.”

“Blow out of the car?!”

“Aye.” Ignis put his hand to Noctis’s forehead again. “You’re ungodly hot. You’re like a space heater when I’m hoisting you around. We need to drop your body temperature if at all possible.”

“I took medicine though.”

“Clearly, the over-the-counter medicines weren’t good enough. Please just trust me.”

Noctis grunted. He wanted to ask about his computer chair, but got his answer after Ignis closed his door in the form of his chair sailing into the hedges lining the parking lot. Noctis frowned.

He liked that chair.

That chair was a good chair.

Prompto nearly killed himself spinning in that chair for ten minutes and then trying to walk.

That was the best chair.

After that wonderful sight, Noctis realized he must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the sight of the dark buildings around the major highway rolling past his view as freezing air slammed into his face. He looked at his lap, and saw that the bag was used and tied together to prevent leakage. He was disturbed because he didn’t remember doing that.

“Where are we?” he asked, his words coming out a little better in terms of forming words. He was still hoarse, and so Ignis couldn’t hear him. He looked over to Ignis, who was bundled up tight in his own coat, gloves and scarf, and frowned a bit.

Reaching over, he clumsily patted at Ignis’s arm to get his attention, and then pointed at the windows, then gestured up to tell Ignis to roll them up. What if Ignis got sick, too?

Still, Ignis just shook his head. He tugged his scarf down from over his nose and lips, in order to shout, “We’re almost there, Noct!” and then he covered himself back up.

Noctis wanted to argue some more, but just as he started reaching for the control to roll at least his window up, the world went dark once more.

———

There were flashes of what was going on from that point out, but the first time that Noctis regained full consciousness, it was daylight out and he was laying in his bed at the Citadel. His vision was blurry, but he could see Ignis and Gladio both quietly talking by the door.

“Hey, the princess finally decided to wake up,” Gladio remarked when he looked over.

“Haha,” Noctis droned, his voice back but still aching. “How long was I out?”

“It depends on what you last remember,” Ignis said as he came to Noctis’s side and sat on the edge of his bed. “You’ve been here at the Citadel for four days, however.”

“Oh, goddamn,” Noctis groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

“Makes you glad you don’t have a cat, doesn’t it?” Gladio joked. Noctis grunted.

“What was wrong with me?” he asked, lifting his arm enough to look at the two.

“Pneumonia,” Ignis replied. “The royal doctor is surprised you were in the condition you were, and not worse.”

“Yeah, well, you know me: Handling near-death experiences like a boss since I was eight.”

He caught the looks the two gave one another, but honestly didn’t care. It was probably pity or concern, and he didn’t want either of those things.

“Noct—” Ignis started but, whatever he was going to say, Noctis wasn’t interest.

“When can I go back to my apartment?” he interrupted with.

Ignis sighed and Gladio replied, “I dunno, when can you stop being a dick?”

Gladio was just calling Noctis out for interrupting Ignis. Noctis understood that, but handed him his middle finger, anyway. He wasn’t in the mood. Ignis replied, “Soon. The doctor said after you started becoming lucid again, he’d want you to stay one more day just to make sure we were out of danger with you.”

“Ugh.” He didn’t want to be there. Gladio being around was fine. Ignis being around was fine. If he could’ve convinced Prompto to come to the Citadel, he would be fine. But being there, especially like that, meant everyone knew and he would start getting multiple visitors and he just… didn’t want that. So, he rolled over, away from Ignis and Gladio the best he could and said, “Wake me up tomorrow, then,” before covering his head.

It made him look like a brat, he knew, but no one listened to him if he tried to be nice about it. They just told him that privacy didn’t work the way he wanted it to, because of his being a prince, or that he needed to accept well-wishes with dignity and grace.

However, when he simply worked with finality, be it saying, ‘No,’ and leaving the room, or just rolling away and going back to sleep, that always worked to keep people away from him that he didn’t want near. He just wanted peace.

* * *

** 1 Day Earlier **

 

“See ya tomorrow, right, dude?” Prompto confirmed as he started to follow Ignis and Gladio from Noctis’s room at the Citadel. After finishing packing and playing King’s Knight one last time at his apartment, they all made way with his things to the Citadel and helped get the boxes to his room as storage.

“Yep, bright and early,” Noctis said, waving at him.

“You’ll finally get to see the throne room,” Ignis remarked to Prompto. “Including King Regis and the Crystal.”

“Aw man, I can’t wait! What’s King Regis like?”

“A formal man, but kind to the people,” Gladio explained.

“You think he’s okay with me?”

“You wouldn’t be a retainer if he wasn’t.”

“He has final say, after all,” Ignis interjected.

“Aw man, I thought knowing something like that would be great for me, but now I’m even more nervous!” Prompto whined.

“Don’t be. Noct’s the one that has to be nervous, because the meeting in the throne room is basically so the king to tell him to not be a dumbass,” Gladio assured.

Noctis leaned on the frame of his bedroom door, listening to the three voices as they grew more distant as they got closer to the elevators.

He wished that they didn’t have to go. He knew they would be spending a long time traveling together to get to Altissia, and they were the wedding party, but that night was the last night they had to be ‘as they always were’.

The only good thing about the massive life change was that he was finally going to be with Lunafreya, but even that made him worry. What if they didn’t let them leave? The whole point was to marry her and bring her home to Lucis, to Insomnia, so she was safe with him. But all of Accordo, including and especially Altissia, was under Empire rule. What if they crashed the wedding and didn’t let it happen, despite the peace keeping deal his father struck with the Empire?

Before he really realized it, Noctis started to pinch his nose closed as his breathing became ragged in a slowly rising panic attack. It was stunning him, just because he hadn’t had one in so long. He’d come close to them, but he was always able to calm himself down. They started after the attack on him at eight, and were regular occurrences until he was ten. In fact, it was only after Gladio started working to become his friend instead of his enemy that they started to calm down.

Prior to that, however, there was only one thing, one person, who was allowed to see the panic attacks and who consequently helped, and he was the one that backtracked from the elevator.

“Noct, I seem to have dropped my phone somewhere,” Ignis said as he stepped back into the room. His words slowed at the end of the sentence, when he saw Noctis balled up and trying to restrain any sobs from escaping him by pinching his nose tight. “Noct, where is this coming from?” he asked. He went to shut the bedroom doors and lock them tight, before sitting beside Noctis and offering his arm to him.

“I don’t—I don’t know, Iggy,” Noctis gasped out, wrapping an arm around Ignis’s and closing his eyes tight. “I don’t know, I’m not even… thinking about anything.” A complete lie, but his worries were his. It was bad enough that Ignis had to see it unfolding at all, even if he was the best at making Noctis calm down.

“Okay…” Ignis reached over to take hold of the hand pinching at Noctis’s nose. “I want you to breathe for me. In through the nose, out through the mouth, nice and slowly,” he directed, his voice soft and speaking with a deliberate, melodic bounce.

Noctis nodded as he did his best to listen to Ignis. It was just like when they were kids. Noctis had come out of his experience traumatized. He did everything he could to hold it in as much as hiding the residual pain from his injuries, but night terrors and flashbacks had been his problem for nearly a year afterward, and only Ignis was there to help him, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“You know, this changes nothing, the start of tomorrow,” Ignis said, likely trying to guess what brought on Noctis’s attack. “Yes, you’ll be entering a new phase in your life, but it’s nothing new. From when we met, to the incident when you were eight… school, Gladio accepting you, becoming friends with Iris, becoming friends with Prompto, moving out, graduating, even working a part-time job. You’ve entered many new phases in your life, and as we always have, we will stay by you.”

Noctis didn’t respond, focusing on his breathing, but he was listening, evidenced with the way his eyes weren’t moving from where they were fixed on a point on the floor.

“We’re your protectors, your retainers, your servants, and your friends,” Ignis continued. “Friends don’t leave one another simply because they have started something new. You’ll marry and eventually you will come back here with her, and we with you. And then you’ll have a family of your own, and we will remain. You will become king, and we will stand by you, and this will continue until the bitter end. Do you understand?”

“…y-yeah, Iggy. I understand.” Noctis slumped a little and sighed as he finally got his breath back, but he was just exhausted then. It never lasted long if Ignis was there, but could last hours if he was by himself, so he was grateful Ignis had dropped his phone. So much so, he couldn’t even think to make fun of him for it. “Thanks. For everything.”

* * *

 ** 10 Years Later **

 

Gladiolus Amicitia.

Ignis Scientia.

Prompto Argentum.

No one could ask for better friends.

Even though they walked in silence together, fought in silence together, making their way for the ruins of Insomnia, they didn’t _need_ to speak.

Noctis got twenty years of life in which he was able to forge bonds that not time nor trial were able to break. Even as they departed from the lives of one another without him there, they came together once again, without question, to stand with him and to fight for him.

These three men did everything they could to work with his eccentricities, to learn his ways, to make his life easier for him. These three men put their lives on the line, so confident in him, and his destiny, that they risked everything. _Everything_.

When Noctis envisioned the future the day they departed from Insomnia, the darkness that enveloped the world ten years later wasn’t it.

Now, he couldn’t say he thought about it in much detail back then in the beginning. Like a fool, he was often absorbed in his own problems. He knew them, and he knew them well, but he just didn’t consider what their futures would bring in much detail. It was very much about him, but he supposed, in hindsight, it wasn’t his fault. He spent twenty years of his life with people doing everything for him and always making it about him. Even with things like charity work, the time came when the press found out despite his best efforts, and elevated him above all the people who worked for the disenfranchised every single day of their lives with little to no pay, and little to no gratitude. The only world he knew was a world that was obsessed with him before leaving Insomnia.

Even then, things moved so fast after, he had no time to really… think.

But he had ten years to think after that.

Gladiolus was a bit closer to what he imagined for him. Gladio was always girl crazy, always dating, always trying to woo some woman or another, so he imagined he would at least calm down enough to go steady with someone by the age of 33 or 34. Not married, just steady.

Had things gone the way they were supposed to, he imagined many a’time, Gladio would decide to take Luna’s side in disagreements because it was funny, and would likely one day become Marshal of the Crownsguard when Cor decided it was time to retire. He imagined Gladio would hang onto that title until someone was able to pry it out of his cold, dead hands, too.

Prompto, well. Noctis had hoped he’d have at least found himself a girlfriend. He probably would have, too, if he wasn’t so hung up on the blonde bombshell mechanic, Cindy Aurum.

Noctis imagined that Prompto would’ve gotten up the courage to accept an invitation to join Noctis’s royal court. Prompto was such a light, warm, friendly guy, even at 30 years and after living through the nightmare of the world, and Noctis would have firmly believed him best on a war council. To get him on that, he’d need to be a member of the court. Lucis was known for its _honor_ in war. Prompto was the perfect person to ensure that honor remained intact.

In fact, he still would have extended that offer, if the night wasn’t going to end the way it was destined.

Ignis was likely the furthest away from what Noctis would have imagined for him. When he watched him, it was like a man who still had his sight. He had his wits about him in ways that he didn’t even when he actually could see. It was as though he could visualize the world as it moved and breathed, and it was damn impressive.

But as they walked and fought and camped… he seemed so alone.

It pained Noctis’s heart. He always imagined that, of the four of them and before the hidden betrothal was outright demanded by the Empire, that Ignis would be the first to wed of any of them, followed by Prompto, then Noctis. Gladio was still likely to never get married, as far as could be seen.

Everything Ignis did that night, it screamed of a man in solitude. A man who no longer considered what life ahead of him would bring. Was it something Noctis missed along the way? Had he always been that way?

Noctis was too afraid to ask. He’d never say that out loud, but he was afraid to know he missed something years ago, even though the memories were far more fresh in his mind than in theirs.

When they came to the edge of where Insomnia’s city proper began, there was a motel that managed to stay standing through all those years, likely due to it being away from the heaviest attacks that focused on the Citadel and the area around the Citadel.

“Let’s stop here for now,” Noctis directed, headed for the motel. “You three secure us a place to sleep.”

“What’re you gonna be doing?” Gladio asked as he followed, and slowly undid the front of his outfit he wore to mark the grand occasion they were about to walk into; grand for many reasons, and not all of them good.

“I need to find something,” Noctis replied. “I’ll clear out anything I find along the way, so don’t worry, I’ll do my part.”

“Not even remotely my concern, Noct,” Gladio said, but he left it alone beyond that.

It didn’t take much time for Noctis to find what he was looking for after the three started their sweep. Behind the counter of the front desk, on the floor, an old notebook untouched since the day Insomnia fell. Finding a working pen was another matter. Noctis went through every pen in the area, and was about to lose hope for his plan, until he found a pencil. A standard, run of the mill mechanical pencil. The best part was, there were refills for it that he passed by a few times during the pen search. A pencil would do.

“Hey, Noct! Building’s clear from what we can tell!” Prompto called from down the hall.

“Good. I’ll be there in a bit! Just some business to attend,” Noctis called back, opening to the first empty sheet of paper after tearing out the few that were written on.

The paper was frail, but he could deal with that. He’d wrap it in a towel or something and stuff it in the inventory they pulled their weapons and items from. It’d hold. As for writing on it: two years of calligraphy lessons gave him a ridiculously soft hand when writing, which was probably funny given how hard he could hit.

After thinking on it for a little bit, of how he was going to say what he needed to say, he started to write.

He started to tell the stories he remembered of his friends. The times they were there for him when they didn’t need to be; the times they were honorable, selfless, loyal and everything to be expected of the King’s Crownsguard and retainers. They were the epitome of what should be considered when looking to the future, whatever that would bring.

They were good men who literally gave everything for him, and they deserved to be recognized for the sacrifices they made. It was just… so disheartening that it wouldn’t be he to give them the accolades they so deserved, not by mouth. Not with his own hands.

He wasn’t sure how long he was there, writing. He knew they came several times to check on him, only to leave once they were sure he was still working. When it came to the end, however, he tried to finalize it as formally as possible.

 

_And in the final hours of my final day, I hereby declare the desire that these men—Gladiolus Amicitia, my Shield; Ignis Scientia, my steward, my advisor; Prompto Argentum, my confidant; these men, my friends and brothers—be recognized for all their greatness, their honor, their loyalty to their King and to their People, and leave it to you, with your loyalty unfaltering no matter how many years have passed, to make it known to all who will listen, in my place, as the Dawn returns to our dying world and breathes life anew._

_His Majesty_

_Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV_

 

On the outside of the notebook, he pulled out a dagger to etch in who it needed to be delivered to, pressing hard enough to break through the waxy front, but light enough not to push through and damage the paper within.

There was most certainly only one person he trusted with making certain that, after dawn broke, Gladio, Prompto and Ignis would get what they deserved by way of recognition.

Once he was finished, he took the notebook in to the room where the three where doing a poor job of sleeping, likely because they were convinced he was losing his mind. By the time he reached them, it was wrapped in an old, dirty hand towel, and he passed it to Gladio. “I need that delivered to the name on the cover in the morning,” was all he said.

“…sure,” Gladio acknowledged. He tenderly lifted the towel before introducing it to the inventory, just so he knew what he was doing and where he was going when the time came. The name was baffling, but given the amount of time Noctis spent out by himself at the desk, Gladio had a feeling it was also haunting. It was the perfect person to spread last wishes, the word of a will.

 

_To: Talcott Hester_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so very much if you got this far! It means a lot to get such wonderful compliments when it's been so long since I've been on the fanfic scene, much more than you know!
> 
> What should be the next thing, I wonder?


End file.
